Malignant Narcissism
by Maria Whitman-Menzel-Malfoy
Summary: What happens when a Veela boy grows up in a family where pureblood is all that matters, and why does pureblood matter so much anyway? LM/BL, RW/LL, slight HP/HG, and other weird couples. SLASH HP/DM Rated M for ... stuff ... *wink*
1. Chapter 1

Malignant Narcissism

A/N: Basically the Prequel, in my opinion, to the Harry Potter stories with a big twist: yes friends, this is a Veela fic!! With some heavy slash, angst, horror, creature, comedy, romance, and drama to help it along. Oh, and it's Drarry in case you were interested. Plus it definitely puts Draco in good light, so if you hate the boy, (grr), then you'll probably not enjoy my remarks to his beauty and grace. Enjoy! Flames welcomed, but I ask you to read the whole thing before you make judgments. ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter... neither do I own the band Rush, from whence the title of this story comes from

* * *

Prologue

"Narcissa, you needn't worry. The tropics will agree with you." Lucius Malfoy reassured his new wife. She nodded half-heartedly.

"This is just so new and exciting." She said, smiling despite herself. He grinned back and hugged her.

"Shall we?" He asked, walking toward the fireplace.

They threw floo powder into the burning flames and walked through their living room fireplace and out of a fireplace in a hut on the beach. Lucius patted Narcissa's hand lovingly and kissed her cheek.

"Like I said: The tropics agree with you, Mrs. Malfoy." He said pleasantly. She agreed and they ran to play in the ocean.

This was the beginning of a complicated and dark story. Narcissa Black and Lucius Malfoy were married September 1st. It was the start to what they hoped to be a beautiful relationship. Two days after they were married, they went on a honeymoon to the Hawaiian Islands, where a couple of wizards that Lucius once knew graciously provided them with private rooms and luxuries for one week. Passions, emotions, and love bloomed that night in their chambers and soon they would have what they had both always dreamed of: a family.

* * *

Chapter 1

9 Months later

"Lucius! I can't bend over, honey." Narcissa whined as she stared helplessly down at a sock that she had dropped on the floor.

Her husband came down the stairs and cherished her in that moment. He picked up her sock and placed it on her foot, chuckling.

"That's what happens when you become pregnant, love." He teased her lovingly.

She pouted as he hurried to get ready to go. She went to sit on a couch in the living room and watched him.

"Where are you going?" She asked. Lucius paused in the doorway and turned back.

"Avery, Nott, and Yaxley want to take me to something. Says it's important." He replied.

"Ok, honey. Be back for dinner?" She asked. He kissed her forehead.

"Of course. Love you." He said as he ran out the door.

He Apparated from his manor in Wiltshire, London, to the location he was given by Nott and observed his surroundings. He was on a lonely street corner with a single street light that flickered and buzzed. He looked around for anybody he knew. That's when he saw Avery standing a few yards off, leaning against a dark, empty building.

"It's about time, Malfoy." He said. Lucius nodded to him in return.

"Let's go. It's about to start." He said, taking off in the opposite direction.

Lucius followed. They walked silently through the streets of what seemed to be a ghost town. It seemed recently deserted, though, and felt eerily like death. Fog creeped up from the ground and the sky was unusually black. Lucius shivered and suddenly wished he could go home. Then Avery ducked into what seemed an ordinary building. He followed cautiously. He walked up the stairs and barely saw the corner of a cloak disappearing around a corner. He rounded the corner and stopped abruptly. Avery, Nott, Yaxely, and countless others whom Lucius didn't know were standing in a semi-circle around an armchair. The armchair seemed to be occupied by a man. Lucius studied him from the shadows. He looked as though he had been handsome when he was younger, but age and something Lucius could not identify clouded and darkened the man's features. His eyes were dark and cloudy, his hair was dark, and his face was gaunt. He seemed disheveled, thin, and haggard. Lucius stepped forward and felt something slip past his ankles. He saw the man look down at what seemed to be a large snake on the floor. The man hissed in what Lucius assumed was Parseltongue.

"Since we are all here, we can start the meeting." The man said.

He had a cold voice that reverberated through Lucius' spine, making him shiver. The man looked around the room, making eye contact with everyone present. His eyes seemed to bore into Lucius' and made him think of nails digging through his head, and then the feeling was gone and the man was looking at someone else. Again, Lucius thought of fleeing, but curiosity kept him rooted.

"My name is," here the man paused, most likely for affect, "Lord Voldemort."

Lucius didn't know if he should laugh, but when others whispered the name as if this man were a god, Lucius decided it was a good idea that he didn't. The man's voice was hoarse and raspy, as though he were sick.

"You are all here because you are chosen. You are chosen to be a part of my little club," he sneered mockingly, "because I believe you can handle it. Each and every one of you are smart, or else you wouldn't be in my presence. The wizarding world is changing as we know it. More things are becoming acceptable. Things that should never change are changing. But there is a way to stop it."

Lucius listened intently as Voldemort spoke of the wizarding world and what he could do to change it and how he needed their help. He spoke of family trees and dirty blood. He talked of wizarding schools and the Ministry of Magic. Lucius felt himself being reeled in of this man's outlandish, yet enticing plans. His silky smooth voice had the crowd captivated, and he was manipulating them with his tactics and strategies.

They were sheep, following power, and this man had power. It was a rebellion, being led by a man with a dark face and a darker past. They could all change a corrupt world with the help of this man, this Voldemort. Change was inevitable in a vast and growing world, but it was something that could be controlled. This dark lord, this Lord Voldemort was a revolutionist and he had a vision for the future of his followers and their children. With him seated as highest power, nothing could go wrong.

..

After the meeting, The Dark Lord, as Lucius heard some call him, went up to his quarters and those left behind mingled. Lucius found more people that he knew at the meeting. He saw Bellatrix and Severus and Macnair. He also met a few others. Peter, Dolohov, Rookwood, and Rowle were all extremely happy to be there. Though it seemed to Lucius that there had been previous meetings with members when he had first started. Dolohov, Mulciber, Nott, Rosier, Avery, and the Lestrange's seemed to be used to the "Dark Lord". Severus Snape led Lucius around, introducing him to the large group of followers.

People spoke in whispers, as though it might be against the rules. They stayed in small, tight groups of two or three and broke apart to join different groups. After a while, wizards and witches began returning to their homes. Snape turned to Lucius.

"What did you think, Lucius?" He asked.

Lucius didn't know what he thought.

"The man's brilliant, no doubt. And he's powerful. The meeting was truly intriguing." Lucius answered, hoping he was saying the right thing.

Severus nodded once and replied, "Yes. He's an inspiration to all."

Lucius thought about Narcissa.

"I really should be heading home."

"You'll come to the next meeting?" Severus asked.

Lucius nodded before Apparating home. It wasn't until he was safe in his bed next to his wife that he realized Severus hadn't been asking. He had been prophesying.

* * *

A/N: End to chapter 1!! Horray! So, it's going along a little fast, but don't worry, it'll slow down.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

A/N: As I was in the middle of writing this chapter, I realized how obsessed I had become with it. :D not a bad thing at all. Then I started getting too attached to the real timeline and actual dates. Now I realize that the good people of won't mind if I change a couple dates… seing as that's the point of fanfiction. :D blonde moment!! On with the show!

* * *

Days passed. Narcissa was nearly due with the baby. Every night, Lucius had gone out with Avery to the meetings. He was learning about the Wizarding world and its changes. Every meeting, the Dark Lord seemed to become more anxious than the previous night. It was terrifying and it made Lucius often lash out at home. His wife was becoming concerned about Lucius' behavior, but he refused to answer her questions. One night at dinner, right before a meeting, Narcissa looked up at her husband with tears in her eyes.

"Honey, the baby's coming soon. Any day now. Maybe you could stay home from the meetings until the birth," She started, but he stood up angrily.

"I can't." He said.

"Why not? You're never home anymore and when you are, you're angry. It's those meetings you go to. What do you do there? What is going on with you?" She asked, standing to look him straight in the eye, like his equal.

"I don't have to tell you anything," He said, sneering; it was an expression he had picked up from Voldemort and it drove her insane.

"Don't you smirk at me. I am your wife, your equal in marriage. Not only should you respect me enough to tell me the truth for that, but also for the fact that I am carrying your unborn child," she said. She touched his cheek with her hand.

"What happened?" She asked. Lucius turned away.

Before he was out the door, she whispered, "I love you".

After he was gone, Narcissa sat down on her couch and sobbed. She was losing her husband to something she knew nothing about, and she couldn't do anything about it. She doubled over suddenly as she felt pain beyond belief below her stomach. She called for a house elf in a panic. The one named Dobby appeared.

"Dobby, it's time." She said curtly. Dobby jumped up and Apparated quickly for a mediwitch.

..

The night was dark and stormy, an unusual state for a summer's night. Trees scraped against the manor and rain pattered against the windows. Lightning flashed and thunder barely covered the sound of a scream from an upstairs room. The full moon glowed surprisingly softly for the temperate night into the window of the room. A woman lay on the bed, sweating and screaming in pain as she delivered her child into the world. Mediwitches stood around her, calming and soothing her, wondering a few things, but not putting voice to the questions. Suddenly, everything stopped and everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath for a moment until a baby's cry split the silence. The mother wearily laid her head back on her pillow and the head mediwitch handed the babe to its mother.

"It's a boy," She said kindly.

The mother, Narcissa, looked down at the baby and smiled.

"Draco."

..

In another part of the town, men and women stood around a throne. Voldemort sat in the chair and looked around at his loyal followers. Hunger for power, change, and something they didn't know about glinted in their eyes. Suddenly, he snapped a look at Lucius Malfoy.

"Malfoy. Join me in my chambers," He said, standing.

Lucius gave a curt nod and followed Voldemort and Bellatrix to his chambers. It was not a room. It was a dungeon. It was cold and dark. Candles attempted to shove the darkness away, but it fought back viciously. Voldemort turned back to Lucius.

"Malfoy. You have been chosen for a special assignment." Voldemort said.

Lucius looked up questioningly at him.

"My lord?"

"Tomorrow night, you shall go with Bella here and a few select others to take care of some business for me, won't you?" Voldemort said, smiling evilly. Lucius nodded.

"Good. Now you may go home. All of you." Voldemort dismissed them with a wave of his hand. Lucius turned to see a hint of a smile on Bellatrix's face.

"See you tomorrow night, brother," she said evilly.

Lucius rushed out the door, down the stairs, and out the door before he Apparated. He entered his house and froze. Something didn't seem right. Everything was too quiet – like the calm after a storm. He rushed upstairs, his wand at the ready. He opened the door to him room to see Narcissa lying on the bed. He walked toward her, smiling. Everything was fine. He changed quickly and got into bed, smiling to himself.

..

The next morning, Lucius awoke early, thinking about the night before. He wondered what the "special assignment" could be. He hoped it was important. He hoped that this would put him in the Dark Lord's good books. He yawned and rolled over to face his wife. He thought about her and, as if she had heard his thoughts, she woke up. She flipped over to look at Lucius.

"Good morning," He said sweetly.

For a moment she looked as though she would answer him. Then her eyes narrowed and Lucius felt the temperature of the room lower. Or maybe that was just his imagination…?

"Good morning?" She asked, mocking him. Her voice was cold and hard, like a stone. Not her usual, happy, cheerful tone.

"What?" He asked, truly not understanding.

She sat up quickly and stood effortlessly. It was like she was her old self without all the … Lucius stared at her, his eyes wide. She turned around. She stood with her arms crossed, an icy expression on her face. Lucius gulped.

"'What?' Your son was born last night and where were you? Voldemort's little club. Should I be angry or worried that you think this silly get-together is more important than your son?" She asked, her voice no louder than a whisper.

"It's not like that. If I had any idea I would have come home immediately," He tried, sitting up.

Narcissa snapped her fingers. A house elf popped in.

"Dobby, bring me my son." She said, her voice still hard and cold and calm.

Lucius caught the "my" in her command as opposed to "our". He really messed up this time. The house elf was gone before her sentence was finished.

Lucius watched as his wife paced across the room in front of the bed, keeping her eyes on him, like a cat stalking a mouse. He knew he was on dangerous ground, so he stayed still. The clock on the wall pounded out the seconds like a hammer to a nail. Lucius wondered when the house elf would return. When his wife stopped pacing to sit in the chair facing the bed, he begged for the house elf to return soon. The void between them was forever long and wide. There was a distance between them now and he had a strange feeling like he was having de ja vu. Then the house elf popped back into the room holding a small bundle of blankets and soft flesh not much bigger than him. The babe whimpered and Lucius saw Narcissa's face soften as she picked him up. Then she turned back to Lucius. Her eyes flashed and she snapped her fingers to dismiss the house elf.

"Lucius meet your son, Draco," she introduced them.

Lucius stood and took a step toward his child. He could see his wife visibly stiffen, as if she were wary of him. He held his arms out to hold the baby. She seemed to consider him. He looked straight into his eyes, trying to apologize without words. He tried, somehow, to express just how sorry he was with just a look. She smiled slightly and held the babe out to him. He gathered up the blankets and light body. He stared down into the face of his own offspring as tears rolled down his cheeks. He never was one to show tears, but the occasion called for it. Narcissa watched with pride and happiness as she watched her husband peer down at her – their child.

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A/N: How are we today? Good? Good! Hope you're up for a fast, awkward chappie!! On with the show?

* * *

That night, Lucius left his wife and newborn child to go out on a mission for the dark lord. Bella and Avery were already at the pre-destined meeting place. He was shivering with anticipation and adrenaline, but he noticed that both of his accomplices stood with stony silences and rigid form. They walked swiftly and silently through the dark neighborhood.

Along the way, Avery seemed to remember Lucius was there, for he turned back and said, "We'll fill you in on the plan when we get there."

Lucius nodded and followed them down alleyways in what seemed to be a suburb. It looked muggle, and Lucius wondered if they were visiting a wizarding family. Finally, Bella stopped and turned to face Avery and Lucius.

"Listen, we don't have much time. We would have told you earlier, but you left the meeting before it was over. The plan is simple: we sneak inside, and you guard the door. Send a quiet Patronus if anyone is sniffing around, though I doubt we'll have trouble." She stole a look at Avery and they shared a small, evil smile. It seriously disturbed Lucius.

"We'll handle the rest. We'll come back down when we're done and then we send up a little notification and we Apparate the hell outta there, got it?" She asked in a whispered rush.

Lucius nodded. Bella turned back around and walked up to a house. She whispered "Alohomora" and went inside. Avery and Lucius followed. Once inside, Lucius stayed downstairs as he watched Avery and Bella take the stairs quickly yet soundlessly. He checked the windows, but the street was deserted – everyone was in bed fast asleep. The house was eerily quiet for a long while until –

"Avada Kedavra!"

Lucius ducked and looked around, but it had come from upstairs. He hurried up the steps and came into a bedroom. He peered inside and saw Bella and Avery standing next to a bed. Two people were lying on it. Dead. Lucius slowly raised a hand to his mouth and willed himself not to scream. Bella walked towards him and dragged him into the next bedroom where two little girls were waking up.

"Mommy? Daddy?" One asked groggily.

Bella walked into the room and Lucius just stared at her. She had a look in her eye that made him draw back in terror. It was hunger – hunger for death, pain, and blood. Lucius couldn't do anything but watch as she raised her wand and killed the girls mercilessly with two little words. He reached toward her as she cast the spell, pleading with her to stop. Lucius saw the flash of green light and stopped. One lonely tear fell down his cheekbone to rest on the underside of his chin. He felt numb and he couldn't move. He looked up into Bella's eyes and was met with stony silence.

"What had to be done is done." She said simply.

Her voice sounded robotic, monotone, as if she had done this a thousand times and it bored her. He wondered how many times the Dark Lord has sent Bella to dispose of a family of Muggles. Just thinking about it made Lucius want to weep and shout and throw up at the same time. He looked over at Avery, who was casting a spell and pointing at the ceiling. Lucius unconsciously noticed Bella grab his arm and drag him outside, but he didn't care. He wanted to go home. He wanted to pretend he didn't see what he had just seen. But then the Dark Lord's lectures suddenly hit him. He had believed it when it was being dreamed of in a room, but meeting with the actions face to face was an entirely different matter. He felt helpless, like he had been thrown into a dark pit and told to survive, only to find out that the floor was filled with snakes.

..

Lucius walked up the stairs to his house slowly, his eyes staring straight ahead. He tried to not think about it, but he knew those girls' faces would be haunting his nightmares. He hadn't shown a bit of emotion, just like Avery and Bella, much like the Dark Lord himself. Lucius figured that must be how they dealed with what were happening. They put on a cold demeanor and hoped to hell no one saw past it to the things they had done. As he climbed into bed next to Narcissa, he suddenly thought that maybe, just maybe, they really didn't care. That they didn't hide their emotions because they had no reaction to the crimes they were committing. He wondered if they even had souls or hearts. And right before he fell asleep, he wondered if he, himself, would still have a soul and a heart once the Dark Lord had what he wanted.

..

Over the next few months, Lucius went out on several adventures for the dark lord as Draco grew. Narcissa was seriously worried about him for a while, but when he shut her out continuously and put on an impassive face so often, she grew to care less and less. She turned to her son for comfort, and brought him up as any normal wizarding child. But after his first month, she noticed that he was not normal. One day, she tried to tell her husband about it.

"Lucius, there's something … different about Draco."

He stared at her coolly. They were eating dinner at a large table. Lucius sat at the head and Narcissa sat at his left, Draco in a high chair on her left. Lucius placed his fork next to him and patted his mouth with a napkin.

"What do you mean?" He asked. His tone was cold, uninterested, and bored. It aggravated her to no end, but now was not about her or him. It was about Draco.

"I mean that … well, he's different. Not normal?" She tried.

Lucius' eyes flashed slightly and he replied, "Are you saying he is inept? A Squib, to put it bluntly?"

Narcissa shook her head slightly and stared back at him with a cold expression.

"No, I'm just saying that he acts differently," she said indifferently and sipped her wine.

Lucius stared at his wife as she ate nonchalantly. He never wanted to push her away, but he was afraid that if he let her in, she would see what he had done. He stole a glance at Draco and felt an emotion that had evaded him these few weeks – happiness. He really did love his son, but he didn't have time to pay attention to his strange behaviour.

They finished their meal and Lucius left in a flurry of his cape. Narcissa sighed and handed Draco to a house elf to be washed and clothed and put to bed. She sat down on the couch with the bottle of wine and wished for a bit of normalcy in her house.

A few hours later, Narcissa awoke to the sound of a cry from upstairs. She looked around for the clock. It was one in the morning. She looked to the coat rack, but it was empty. She yawned groggily. Another cry from upstairs made Narcissa hastily stand. The room seemed to have grown darker, colder, and stranger. As she climbed the stairs to the baby's room, she felt a shiver run down her spine. The baby's cries continued and the darkness of the house grew almost unbearable. Soon it was pitch dark in the house. She cast a lumos charm to guide her to the baby's room, shivering along the way. She noted that even her lumos charm seemed weak. She reached the crib and it looked to be black, even under wand light. She picked Draco up and rocked him lovingly. As his cries quieted, the room grew brighter, warmer, and happier. Narcissa rocked the babe back to sleep and laid him down to rest. She walked back wearily to her bed chambers and lay down. Luckily, sleep came quickly and she slept dreamlessly, not stirring when Lucius crept into the house in the wee hours of the morning, kissing her temple before he, too fell asleep.

..

When Lucius finally crawled out of bed, Narcissa was downstairs. He slowly walked up to stand behind her. She was sitting on a couch drinking some tea, watching Draco play on the ground. She looked like she was waiting for something. Draco looked up and, amazingly, locked similar eyes with Lucius. He hadn't noticed how they both had the same silvery shade of eyes before. Draco turned his attention back to a small stick in the middle of the floor. Lucius made a face until he realized it was Narcissa's wand. Lucius took a step forward to gather it up from the babe, but Narcissa put a hand out to stop him.

"Just wait."

He paused, not knowing she had noticed him standing there. He watched carefully as Draco picked the wand up and turned it over in his hand, as if he were studying it. But no, he was too young to be able to think and process information. Lucius turned to go, but Narcissa put out her hand again.

"Please just watch."

He sighed and waited. Draco had the wand firmly in his small hand and he looked ahead of him at a vase of withering flowers. He pointed the wand at the flowers and seemed to be concentrating. Lucius waited with bated breath, but nothing happened. The boy seemed disappointed. He angrily threw the wand aside and pointed at the flowers with just a pointer finger. He closed his eyes tight, continuing to point at the flowers. Suddenly, the flowers bloomed brilliantly. More and more flowers of beauty began springing from the vase. Lucius found himself beaming at the child. He looked over at Narcissa, but she seemed to still be waiting. He watched Draco open his eyes to see the flowers he had made. The child clapped his hands and laughed, a happy tinkling sound, like little bells. The room grew brighter and happier, buzzing with energy. The tables and chairs sat up straighter and everything seemed to quiver with anticipation. Lucius found himself feeling excited and happy for reasons he couldn't explain. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. The room was still abnormally bright, but it no longer hummed with power.

Narcissa turned to him with a worried expression. Lucius finally understood what she had meant. The boy was different. She stood and called for a house elf to watch the boy. She left the room and Lucius followed.

"So, do you believe me now?" She asked, half expecting to be met with stony silence. Lucius nodded solemnly.

"We'll take him to St. Mungo's to see if there is anything wrong with him," Lucius suggested, but Narcissa shook her head.

"St. Tarillin's would be a better choice," she countered. Lucius had forgotten about St. Tarillin's.

Later that day, Lucius made an appointment with the children's hospital to meet with him, his wife, and Draco for the following Saturday. Narcissa nodded curtly and attended to the baby while Lucius left for his meeting with The Dark Lord.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A/N: This one was a lot longer than the other chapters and I had a great time writing it. I just hope you have as good a time reading it. On with the show!

* * *

Next Saturday, the Malfoy's sat in the reception area at St. Tarillin's Children Hospital awaiting their appointment to commence. They sat like perfect statues. Draco had been upset when they first arrived, causing the room to become anxious and worried, but Narcissa soothed him and he soon grew curious and excited, so the room brightened and everyone in the room relaxed. Mr. Malfoy looked thoroughly bored while Narcissa seemed to look as though she was much better than everyone else in the room.

"Mr. Malfoy?" asked a nurse. The Malfoys stood and walked into a room with a Dr. Lacidem. He looked at a clipboard for a while before turning to give the family a friendly smile, which only Narcissa returned.

"Now, what seems to be wrong with the child?" He asked bluntly. Narcissa appreciated that.

"Well, he's just a little bit different. He seems to be … overdeveloped. He can concentrate and perform wandless magic. He can also focus on things, though he's only a month old. And, the strangest thing of all, he can create feelings in a room. When he is upset or angry, the room seems to copy his emotions. The room with darken and seem glum or the furniture will slump. When he's excited, the room seems aglow with energy and brightens abnormally." Narcissa explained.

The doctor nodded and wrote on his clipboard. Lucius Malfoy sat straight, keeping a wary eye on the doctor.

"Does the child have any unusual blood in him?" He asked. Narcissa seemed taken aback, while Lucius seemed offended.

"He is of very pure blood from a family of purebloods going back many generations," Lucius said proudly, staring down at the doctor, as if he could sense that the man was a muggle-born.

"I meant no disrespect, Mr. Malfoy. I merely wondered if the boy had creature blood in him."

Narcissa perked up at the question. Was it possible that her son had creature blood?

"I don't know." Lucius answered, shocked.

The doctor nodded and made some notes. He talked to them about getting Draco's blood tested for creature occurrences. He said it was very rare, but it seemed to be the only explanation.

"What kind of … creature do you think it could be?" Narcissa asked curiously.

"It could be vampire, dragon, mer-blood, or, possibly, veela. That is the most common mixtures." He answered.

They made another appointment to have Draco's blood tested, then Apparated home. Lucius was furious as he walked around the house, waiting for night to come so he could leave. Narcissa knew he was angry because their son could be a half-blood, and that would taint the pureblood line.

"It just can't be possible! A Malfoy half-blood? Preposterous! The man is off his rocker!" Lucius ranted and raved.

Narcissa began to think that his anger was seeping deeper and was more personal than just the fact that his son could be a half-blood. There seemed to be a quiver of fear hidden deep within his dark tones.

"What's really bothering you about this?" Narcissa asked gently, trying not to instigate a worse mood from him.

Lucius sighed and regarded his wife coolly. He sat down stiffly to be at eye level with her.

"It bothers me that my parents saw fit to keep this important information from me," he replied, his voice hard.

"Perhaps they themselves didn't know. Maybe this has been a recessive gene for hundreds of generations. Or maybe…" She stopped, not daring to tread down that road. He looked up from the tablecloth sharply.

"Maybe?" He probed. She bit her lip.

"Maybe it's … from my side."

Lucius stood as stiffly as he had sat down and looked down at her, disgust blazing in his eyes. She felt her heart beat quicken. Draco looked up from his toys to look at his mother. The room grew worried and darkened a little.

"We'll find out soon." He said calmly and left.

..

A few days later, they went back to the hospital for their next appointment. They waited in the reception area with stony faces and distant eyes. Draco sat in his mother's lap, happily cooing and playing with a toy. In what seemed like hours, but was perhaps only a few minutes, they waited until the same nurse happily showed them to their doctor.

"Come in!" He said cheerfully.

Lucius swept into the room impressively with his cape and cane while Narcissa walked in with confidence with the babe in her arms. They sat down with the same upright backs and waited.

"Well, the test results prove positive for creature blood." He said.

Again, Narcissa was glad to have such a straight-forward, to-the-point doctor. Apparently, Lucius did not share her views. His face lost all its confidence and colour.

"What kind?" He asked, dreading the answer. The doctor looked down at his sheets and frowned.

"Veela."

Narcissa smiled down at her little Draco Veela. She felt … proud to have him have such interesting blood. Lucius, however, was not.

"Which side of the family does the blood originate from?" Lucius asked impatiently. The doctor looked from husband to wife, mother to father, woman to man. Then he looked down at the baby and spoke to it, instead, saying,

"The mother's."

Time seemed to stop. Lucius slowly looked over at his wife, the woman who had caused this. He felt his mouth turn up in disgust, and he masked it with a sneer.

"Thank you for your time," Lucius said without looking at the doctor and walked out the door, Narcissa hot on his trail. They Apparated home quickly and not a word was spoken to each other. Even Draco stopped cooing. Narcissa took Draco up to his room for a nap, and then she slowly walked downstairs to meet her fate.

Lucius stood in the living room, his hands clasped behind his back, facing the window. Narcissa walked in slowly, calmly, and quietly.

"Narcissa. Won't you have a seat?" He asked.

His voice was as cold as ice, and Narcissa feared what his eyes would look like. She took a seat on the couch, trying not to look as shook up as she really was. He did not turn to look at her. He spoke to the landscape instead.

"What a … sticky situation, wouldn't you agree?" It sounded like he was trying to sound pleasant, but it fell flat. Narcissa nodded, not trusting her voice.

"What are we going to do?" He asked.

For the first time since the baby was born, she heard a softness in his voice. He really did care about the child and wanted to figure things out with her, like they were equals. She smiled in spite of herself, then she realized what he was asking.

"What are we going to do about what?" She asked.

Lucius stared out over the expansive lawn that he paid his house elves to keep well manicured and looking as lovely as ever. Then, he turned slightly to show her his profile, but looked at the ground.

"What are we going to do about us?" He replied, his voice hard and direct, like a hammer hitting a nail.

Narcissa thought about what he was asking. If he was asking to divorce her, she wouldn't know what to think or do. She gulped and tried to think positively.

"I'm not sure. What do you propose we do?" She said, thinking to put it on him.

"I can think of two solutions. One, we get a secret divorce. You can keep the house and the child and half the Gringotts account. Two, we keep this as private as possible and we stay married," He said calmly and thoughtfully.

Immediately Narcissa knew which one she'd rather have. She stood and faced him coolly.

"It would be less messy to just stay married," she said confidently. He nodded.

"I suppose we could home-school the boy –"

"No, that will not do. He will have a proper education just like every other witch or wizard. If we keep him holed up here, people will be suspicious, he won't develop socially, and it will be quite a strain on us," Narcissa said, cutting Lucius' thoughts off.

Lucius looked at the clock on the wall and made a move to leave.

"Off to see Voldemort again?" She spat.

She had had enough of him leaving her with everything while he went and did … what exactly? She didn't even know. Lucius moved toward her, anger written on his face. He stopped, though, and drew himself up coolly.

"I wouldn't think you'd ever understand." He replied and left.

..

Every day the baby grew healthily and strongly. He was just like every other child in that he cried often, laughed musically, and grew more and more curious. He was a beautiful baby and grew to be a gorgeous toddler. He had his father's facial features. Grey eyes, blonde hair, strong jaw, thin face, and long lashes. But he had gotten his mother's body. He was long and lithe, promising gracefulness and elegance.

Narcissa kept a close watch on his developments, trying to discern from normal behaviour and veela tendencies. He would crawl on the floor while she read up what she could in books and scrolls. Only a few books talked about veela blood mixing with human blood and its outcome, but it was in these that she found all her information.

It didn't tell her exactly what he would be like, but it showed examples of other such cases. Beauty, agility, intelligence, and special abilities were common. Extreme curiosity, outstanding concentration, and reserved nature were not listed, but Narcissa imagined it had nothing to do with being a veela.

As she struggled to find out more about what her son was, she grew concerned about her husband. He hardly spoke to her anymore, and when he did, it was merely in passing. She didn't know if it was because of him finding out about her "causing" Draco's blood issue or his secret meetings with Voldemort. One day she saw him walking around the house muttering, wringing his hands, and shooting furtive glances into every dark corner of the house. Another time, she walked in on him just sitting on an armchair, staring at nothing. The look in his eyes had been one of such horror, she had been afraid he was seeing something, but nothing was around. She had tried time and time again to talk to him, but she felt more than saw him turning more and more introverted, cold, and distant.

The next day, it hit her. Something that she had never thought would happen between them had happened and she hadn't even notice. It had stopped when he started going to those parties. It most likely had to do with the fact that he rarely came home before 4 in the morning. They hadn't had sex. She knew she was being slightly childish, but it was true. Every night she went to sleep without him and woke up to find him on the other side of the bed, his back to her. She missed their wild abandon and throes of passion in the dark of nights. In the day he always seemed nice and sweet and charming, but in the night his recklessness appeared. It was then when she would take off her clothes and inhibitions and let him take away her stress. It was then in the dark of night that he would become the animal that seemed to be trapped inside his heart. And she missed it. This cold person that she saw walking around her house was not the same man that used to make her scream and writhe in pleasure and the need to get closer to him, and then hold her until they both fell asleep, still slightly panting with their sweat drying on their cooling bodies.

No, this man was a completely different person. He was not charming and handsome anymore. He was sallow and frozen in time, no longer growing or aging. His eyes were no longer rich silver, but dark bluish grey, like the bottom of a solid pond. His whole appearance seemed muted and dark. He wore black all the time instead of colours. His hair even seemed less brilliant, less golden white. He still seemed strong and confident, even more so perhaps. But he had lost the light in his eyes and face. He walked with a straighter back, trying not to seem weak. He looked down on everything, even things he used to prize. He used to stay home during that day and leave for the night, but now she hardly saw him. She was afraid he was having an affair and for one, brief moment of anger, she indifferently told herself she didn't care. But she did care. Her days and nights were filled with worry, which turned her into a silent, cold, bitter woman. Amazingly, in hating and worrying about him, he had turned her into himself.

..

On Draco's first birthday, Lucius was not home all day. Narcissa had the house elves bake the child a cake and they ate it with their hands, laughing and making a mess. She had gotten him a toy broomstick, a silver comb with emerald stones on the handle, and a baby eagle owl. His father had gotten him nothing. The next day when she saw him walking out the door, she gave him a look that could freeze vodka, but it didn't even faze him.

For Lucius, things were getting out of hand with Voldemort. He found the meetings to be like a drug – he just couldn't get enough of it. He knew his wife was losing all faith in him, but he found himself caring less and less. When they found out about the child's blood, everything fell apart. He didn't want to be around the woman or babe. He found that he couldn't. Anytime he was at home, he felt the need to be with the Death Eaters. When he was with the Death Eaters, he felt like he was a bad parent.

He looked down at Draco walking around the house in nothing but a diaper. He felt his nose raise and his lip curl. He still could not believe that any child of his was a half-blood. He sometimes felt hypocritical at the meetings because of his son's status, but he hid his emotions well. He noticed that he was getting better and better at hiding his feelings and emotions behind a cold mask, like his Death Eater uniform. Still, it was his son, and he should be proud of him, right?

Lucius left shortly after and Narcissa sighed. She was really getting anxious about him leaving. There had been many reports of cold murder lately, and she didn't want him to get hurt. True, she really hated the way he treated her and the baby, but the sad thing was that she still loved and cared for him. She didn't want him to get hurt.

The next day she took Draco to Diagon Alley to shop. It had been years since she had gone very far from home. The fresh air felt good. But as she walked through the town with Draco running to keep up beside her, she noticed the area looking sad and deserted. Most shops were closed or out of business. Few people littered the cobblestone drives and they walked in packs of two or three, whispering behind hands, holding tattered cloaks tighter to themselves. A man approached her suddenly.

"What're you doing walking around? It's much too dangerous." He grabbed her by her arm and took her inside a nearby shop.

She looked at him, utterly confused. He glanced around the corners of the shop, as if checking for – what?

"What are you talking about?" She asked.

He looked at her as if she had sprouted another nose or ear.

"Don't you read the news? Do you know anything that's going on?" He asked condescendingly.

She stood straighter, but realized she didn't have a solid answer to give him. She shook her head sadly.

"Gee lady. You've got some catching up to do. Pull up a chair and I'll tell you what I can."

They both sat at a small table facing each other. The man's name was Longbottom and he told her what he could. They were in the middle of a wizarding war. Muggle-born's and half-bloods against You-Know-Who.

"But I don't know who." She said tiredly.

"You-Know-Who is a dark wizard, as dark as they come. He hides in secret with hundreds of faithful servants intent on obeying his every whim. No one knows his past or future. They only know his plan."

"What's his plan?"

"He plans on wiping out all muggles and any wizard not of pure blood."

"Why?" She asked.

The man shrugged and threw up his hands as if to say "Search me." Narcissa shook her head.

"Why don't you say his name? Does he have a name?"

"Oh yes, he has a name, but most people are afraid to say it. I'm not usually one to shy away from it. A great man once said, 'a fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself'. I wasn't planning on saying it in such polite company…" He said, struggling to show both politeness and courage at the same time.

Narcissa smiled. Definitely a Gryffindor at Hogwarts. The man glanced over his shoulder, but no one was in the room.

"His name is Lord Voldemort."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A/N: Ok, this has been the hardest chapter to write!! And my computer keeps overheating, so I only have about an hour on the bloody thing. And I'm sorry this past chapter was kinda confusing and you're like "What?" half the time, but it'll all straighten out, I promise. Plus, in this one, I found myself trying to go more to Draco's point of view, but seemed to get distracted with Lucius and Narcissa's story, which I'm sure you'll find interesting. On with the show!

* * *

Narcissa's jaw dropped. Suddenly everything clicked. The man stuttered incoherently, as if the name had offended or frightened her. And it did, but not in the way he thought it did. She managed to compose herself and smiled down at Draco, who was watching the man intently.

"So, are you some kind of rebellion against this Voldemort person?" She asked nonchalantly.

The man grinned proudly.

"You could say that. Thinking of joining?" He asked jokingly.

Narcissa laughed at the absurdity of it, but there was a slight nervousness in her giggle. She stood and extended a hand to Lott – Log – the man and he shook it heartily. She gave a hasty goodbye, gathered Draco, and Apparated home. She put him down for a nap despite his petulant protesting.

She walked down the stairs slowly, trying to sort out the thoughts buzzing in her head. When she reached the last step, she sank to sit down, put her head on folded arms on her knees and sobbed. Lucius came home in the early morning to find Narcissa on the foot of the stairs staring out wide-eyed at the ground. He walked over to her softly and looked down at her.

"Narcissa?" He asked, confusion written on his face.

She looked up at him, expecting, wanting, and needing to see her old Lucius that didn't hate, didn't kill, and didn't lie. She wanted the Lucius she married and loved, not this new Voldemort/Lucius hybrid. She stood angrily and distressed to look at him in the eyes.

"Tell me what's going on." She said.

Lucius froze, a flash of fear crossing his features. In an instant it was gone, and the cold, hard, statue of a man stared back at her, as if she were naught but a child.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're tired, you should go to bed." He said, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.

Narcissa, however, stood her ground and said right back, "Not on your life, Lucius. I just went out to Diagon Alley for the first time in years it seems. You can't expect me to think nothing's going on!"

Lucius breathed heavily and closed his eyes, pain etched on his face. Finally, he looked up, with determination in his almost black eyes.

"And if I refuse?" He asked.

"I'll leave," She said, hoping to god her voice didn't waver.

Lucius snorted and rolled his eyes. He reached out to touch her cheek, and for the first time in months, she saw a little of the old Lucius looking back at her.

"If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you need me. If you left, took the child, even made our divorce public, you would be in worse shape than I ever could be," and in a flash, he was back to his new self, "Now quit this foolishness and get to bed."

Narcissa knew he was right. She could never leave him. She needed him.

"You're right," She amended, "You're always right. You're too smart for me."

He sneered, superiority glowing from him. She looked up at him from under her eyelashes. Now she needed to play dirty. Now she needed to dig back to her roots.

"I know you're smart, Lucius. That's why you're going to tell me what the hell is going on out there," She said, a hardness creeping into her voice.

"And if I refuse?" He asked, smirking, figuring he had won.

"Then I'm going to start whispering to people. Telling people you have a half-breed son would be just the beginning. I'll tell anyone who will listen that you married a Mudblood, or, better yet, a Squib," She said softly, dangerously.

Lucius stared at her, trying to process the threats she was ensuing to him. He was stuck at a crossroad: fill his wife in on everything that was going on, or have his reputation destroyed completely. He stared at her, his body and face still cold. His eyes, however, always gave way to his true emotions, and now they gazed at Narcissa, begging her not to have him make this decision. She shook her head and closed her eyes, as if to tell him he brought this on himself and there was nothing she could do about it now.

Deep down, he knew it would come to this, but he kept trying to put it off, hoping on wishes that she wouldn't find out. But she did, and now he had to own up to everything he had done in the past year. He sighed and guided his wife to the living room.

"Last year, when I first went to these meetings with The Dark Lord –"

"Voldemort," She voiced. He nodded darkly.

"When I first met him, I heard what he had to say and I found that I shared in his beliefs…"

Lucius started to tell his precious Narcissa everything about Voldemort, the Death Eaters, the war, Dumbledore, and, lastly, Harry Potter.

"Sent to kill him? But why? What did he do to Voldemort?" She asked.

And, with difficulty, he related the prophesy to her.

"'He will have power the Dark Lord knows not'? 'Neither can live while the other survives'?" She asked, not believing what she was hearing.

"Wormtail came to The Dark Lord, telling him about a babe who was born not too long ago that fits the description, so –"

"So Voldemort is going to kill him. He's going to kill a poor, defenseless child." She said in a monotone voice.

"It's the only way. Now, I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, now you shall fulfill yours. You are not to breathe a word about Draco and his blood. You are not to spread wild tales and rumors about a wife with tainted blood, agreed?" He asked.

Narcissa nodded. She was still trying to wrap her mind around everything he had just told her. Visions of men in cloaks and masks, screaming children, burning buildings, green flashes of light and then stillness, and cold, cruel, high-pitched laughter filled her mind and ears. She closed her eyes as a lone tear fell down her cheek.

She walked upstairs to her room slowly and softly, her head held high. Now that she knew the truth, she had to act the part. She was the wife of a Death Eater, a man who killed Muggles and half-bloods for a cause that made sense to Voldemort and his supporters. She was the mother of a veela child, and she held a secret that could get her and her family killed. Now she couldn't be the sweet, nice hostess. She had to be a superior, pureblood wife who believed that she was above everything else. She just hoped her child would understand.

..

The next night was Halloween, the night that Voldemort was to kill the Potters. The night was clear with an unusually large, yellow moon hovering just above the horizon. Lucius and the rest of the Death Eaters waited at Headquarters anxiously for the return of their Dark Lord. Lucius glanced around and saw Bellatrix looking smug and indifferent lounging on a couch. Lucius knew she was confident about tonight's endeavors, but Lucius, as well as a few others, felt a sense of foreboding. The ticking of the old grandfather clock grew steadily louder and, somehow, slower. Every second that passed was another fear mounting on the Death Eaters. Bellatrix was staring grimly at the door, her eyes furiously shedding tears. Hours and hours passed, and still he did not return.

Collectively, the group of waiters looked down to stare at the tattoos on their left arms. It seemed weak and cool. The truth suddenly dawned on all of them at once. He was gone, and he wasn't coming back. All the people in the cramped, dark living area stopped waiting. They all Disapparated, Flooed, or walked home, the unusual moon seeming to taunt them from above. The Death Eaters noticed the world seemed too bright, too filled with energy for their sorrow. Fireworks were going off somewhere in the distance and cries of happiness reached their ears.

Lucius walked a ways away and then Apparated home with a heavy heart. He simply could not believe that the Dark Lord could have … died. Surely he would come back. After all, he had informed his followers multiple times that he was above something as primitive as mortal death. As he climbed the stairs, he removed his dark cloak and mask and dropped them to the ground. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. He didn't realize how dependant he had been on Voldemort until he wasn't around. He wondered what could have possibly gone wrong. The Dark Lord had killed many a people with a flick of his wand and a few choice words. Surely a couple and their baby child could not have defeated the greatest and most powerful wizard the world has ever seen!

Lucius reached his bed and pulled the covers up to his neck. He felt empty and alone. He desperately needed some reassurance from anyone. He wanted and needed to hear that everything would be ok. He had to hear that there had been a mistake and the Dark Lord is waiting for the Death Eaters at the headquarters. But he knew that no such reassurance was coming to save him from the emptiness that threatened to consume him completely. He fell asleep soon after and slept dreamlessly.

Some couple hundred miles away, Harry Potter lay waiting on the Dursley's doorstep.

A couple hundred miles from that, Voldemort waited in a hollow log in a dark forest barely alive.

Back at the Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy reached out instinctively for something. He cried as he felt the need to have something, but he himself didn't know what it was.

..

For the next few months and years to follow, Lucius gave up hope that there had been a mistake. He honestly began to believe that The Dark Lord, whom he had given all of his life for, was dead. The emptiness that he had started to feel that first night was now a constant companion, or lack thereof. He hardly spoke, and when he did, it was with such malice, such superiority, it didn't really matter what he said, for he could tear down a person's self-confidence with only a few short sentences.

Narcissa slowly turned into a woman form of her husband. She was cold, hard, and felt superior to everyone and everything. At home, however, she slipped back into her old self to take care of Draco, who seemed to get more anxious every day. She enticed him to talk and walk, and he followed her every whim. He was a bit apprehensive around his father, but it was as if Lucius hardly noticed him. When Draco took his first step, Lucius hardly gave him a second look.

At Draco's 4th birthday, he levitated his crib about six feet into the air. Narcissa was ecstatic for him to show some normal magic, but Lucius only showed coldness to this discovery. Over the next couple years, Draco often talked of a yearning in the pit of his stomach for something he didn't know. Narcissa tried to soothe his worries, but she didn't know how. The one day, she thought she had found an answer. Lucius was sitting in the drawing room, sipping a glass of wine and staring at a tapestry that depicted Satan being dismissed from heaven and going to live in the underworld. She walked toward her cold husband cautiously and stood behind him. She heard him sigh.

"Yes, Narcissa, can I help you?" He asked in a bored, slightly slurred tone that suggested that this was not his first glass of wine.

"I have a favor to ask of you," she said, trying to sound nonchalant, like it was only a simple matter.

"I'm listening."

She braced herself, then, taking a deep breath, plowed on.

"As you might have noticed," she started, thinking fast, "your son is nearing the age of eleven fast. Pretty soon he will be leaving us for Hogwarts. I think you should try spending as much time with him as you can now, so when he comes back for summers, he won't be dreading it."

There was a silence that seemed to stretch for hours as Narcissa waited for Lucius to agree, disagree, or dismiss her angrily at such a suggestion. Lucius seemed to actually be considering it. After what seemed forever, Lucius drained the rest of his wine in one swig, stood silently, and turned to face his wife. She noticed his expression was clouded, but it could have been due to the fact that they were standing in a dark drawing room. She heard him take a deep breath, not unlike the one she had taken prior to her proposal.

"I'm sure I don't really have the time to –"

"You don't have the time to get to know your own and only son," She said in a clear, calm, and accusatory tone.

He simply stared at her for a while. She mentally dared him to tell her she didn't understand all the important tripe he had to do. He seemed to sense this, and for a while, they were silent again.

"What do you want from me?" He asked, clearly defeated.

"Just spend time with him. Get to know him. I'll be willing to bet you don't know very much about him. What's his favorite colour? Favorite food? Middle name?"

Lucius was silent, clearly trying to figure out what those things had to do with anything. She snorted and walked away. She walked silently passed Draco's room. She knew he couldn't be asleep – he never fell asleep before 3 a.m. these days. However, tonight his light was off and she couldn't hear any noises behind the door. She shrugged to herself and walked to her own room.

Draco waited until he heard his mothers' footsteps disappear before turning his light back on. He was looking down at a book, trying desperately to make sense of everything he was reading. The cover read simply _"Veela: Facts and Folklore"_. Draco's nose hovered only an inch or so above the pages he was perusing vigorously. He read aloud as he went along.

"'The veela is an extraordinary blah blah blah … When mixed with human blood, the outcome is not only blah blah blah … Though some qualities remain the same, a human/Veela mix is usually blah blah blah …"

He had been searching for hours for anything even remotely useful, and he was becoming increasingly frustrated at the lack of information in the book. He paused for a fraction of a second on a chapter titled "Mates" before moving on; deciding he didn't want to know.

He looked up from the book to check his surroundings. The furniture seemed to be on the point of exploding and the air was so thick with anger, it was tangible. He sighed and slammed the book shut, figuring he could continue his search the next day. He rubbed his temples before lying back down on his ridiculously large bed for the night. He prayed he wouldn't dream that night, but knew there was no help for it. He was asleep instantly, like shutting off a Muggle machine.

..

The next morning, Draco awoke feeling quite refreshed. He had the fleeting image of a part of his dream; it seemed to be something green. A green light, a glowing object, or something that just happened to be green he supposed. But, as every other night, he felt like as he was reaching for the memory of his dream, he was reaching for something just out of his reach. He shrugged and dressed quietly. He yawned and felt the room shudder with him. Suddenly, he picked up his head. Something wasn't right. He strained his ears, but there was no movement in the house that seemed unusual. He quietly crept down the stairs, determined to make as little noise as possible; the sun had only just risen and he didn't want to wake his mother.

Narcissa, however, was awake, sitting on the edge of her bed, staring out the window. She was trying not to yawn or burst into tears – both proving much easier said than done. She awoke to find that Lucius hadn't come back last night from heaven knew where. She knew that he no longer went to Death Eater meetings, having given up any thought of The Dark Lord ever returning. He had been prone to disappear for hours at a time, but he always told her where he was going and how long he would be gone. He usually kept him in the loop with these kinds of things. She just hoped he was safe, and felt like reminding him to at least send a Patronus when he was going to be home after the sun rose.

Lucius woke with a start some fifty miles away from his home, in a place he vaguely remembered, but could not quite put his finger on. Opening his very eyes proved to be difficult as the sunlight streaming in through the lightly curtained windows seemed determined to murder him via a pounding headache. He tried to strain his memory to the previous night, but knew it was no use for at least another hour. He lay back down, dimly aware that he was in a strange, yet familiar room completely naked under only a thin sheet on a marvelously large bed. Finally, flashes from his memory seemed to come back to him very slowly. He remembered Narcissa telling him to spend more time with his son. He remembered leaving the house and going to a wizard's pub, possibly the Leaky Cauldron. He had a couple (hundred) drinks, and then got up to leave…

_FLASHBACK_

Lucius stumbled to stand. He couldn't recall when he had lost count of how many drinks he had, but he knew it had been much earlier. He turned around and saw a familiar head of hair in the corner. He walked over to the table and sat down next to the person. She looked up at him under her heavy lids and long lashes.

"Lucius," She said softly, as a greeting.

"Bella," He responded.

They talked for a while, Bella assuring him that The Dark Lord would appear once again. He asked her how she had managed escaping the Ministry of Magic's claws for so long and she just chuckled enigmatically. After a while, the bar began closing down and throwing out the drunks. Bella observed Lucius' state of intoxication and offered to let him stay at her place for the night. He agreed whole-heartedly and they started off for her "place", which she assured was only a few blocks. Lucius felt himself growing restless as they walked. He hadn't gotten this drunk in ages and he knew what happened when he was drunk, but didn't really care. He found himself leaning on Bellatrix as if she were his lifeline and she was laughing along with everything he blurted in his drunken state.

Finally, they reached a dark, but large mansion overcome with vines on the corner of a street that Lucius could not properly read. They stumbled up the stairs and, as Lucius waited for Bella to open the door, he nuzzled his face into her neck.

"You smell good, Bella," he heard himself saying.

Bella blushed nervously and helped Lucius inside. However, by some strange accident, most likely due to Lucius' drunken state, they found themselves face to face, Lucius pressed against Bella. They were much to close for comfort, but Lucius was drunk and in need of comfort. Bella knew what it was like to lose The Dark Lord_H_. She was close to him; she probably missed him the most. Lucius realized he had been saying these things out loud at Bella's wide eyes.

Without a moment's hesitation, Lucius pressed his lips against Bella's. For a moment, she remained impassive, but as Lucius' tongue begged entrance, she allowed it. For a while, their tongues battled within their caves of mouths. Soon, each was panting from lack of air and extent of want filling their bloodstream. Bellatrix guided them to the bedroom, falling on top of him on top of the bed. They resumed their addictive kissing until Bella broke for air and complained about the restricting clothing between them. Lucius, even in his intoxication, was able to take all of their clothes off without breaking the kiss. They flipped positions and Lucius, without any preparations, pressed inexorably into Bella. She gasped loudly, her back arching delicately.

"Lucius!" She gaped.

Lucius groaned and pulled out nearly all the way before ramming back into her. She moaned her approval and Lucius continued the motion, obeying her begging "faster" and "harder" with every huff of breath. Soon, Lucius was right on the very brink of exploding when he looked down at Bella's exceptionally loud gasp and as she bit her lip prettily, trying hard not to scream, he felt his own orgasm rake through him. His whole world exploded in brilliant, blinding light and he wasn't quite sure if he had ever came that violently. He as sure he had screamed, finding his self-control much worse than Bella's under his current position.

Finally, Lucius lay breathing heavily next to Bella. She, too, was staring up above her and, as their panting slowed, he felt himself drifting to sleep…

_END FLASHBACK_

Lucius was sitting up now, staring straight ahead, gaping at the wallpaper, which was, incredibly, goldfish. He couldn't believe what he had done. He tried to tell himself that there really was no way he could have prevented this, but he kept seeing Narcissa's beaming face in his mind, quickly crumpling as he imagined telling her what had happened. He shook his head. He wouldn't tell her. He would explain that he had gotten extremely drunk at a pub and Bellatrix had kindly offered him a place to stay for the night. Just as he was perfecting his cover-story, Bella walked into the room wearing his shirt and carrying a tray with breakfast on it. She smiled groggily at him.

"Have a good sleep?" She asked.

Lucius smiled back at her. What his wife didn't know wouldn't hurt her.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews!! Cyber-lollipops for all of you!! A couple of you were asking questions and making suggestions (thanks, njferrell, sounds like an awesome story, but not quite hat I had in mind :D …) and I think a couple things will become clear in this chapter. Well, let's get this road on the show… (or something to that affect)

P.S. This one took a while to write because I went on a camping trip for 4 days, keeping me away from my computer for nearly a full school week. (!!) Anyway, it's here now, and it's getting juicy. On with the show!!

Disclaimer: (might as well) I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own Rush, from which the title of this story was inspired.

* * *

Lucius arrived home around noon. The house seemed quiet, yet anxious. He sighed and rolled his eyes. Narcissa must have let it slip to Draco that he was not there, making his emotions become one with the room. He rounded the corner to see Narcissa sitting at the dining room table, her head in her hands, and a cold cup of tea sitting next to her. Draco was standing, his hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window that led to the veranda. Lucius cleared his throat, to make his presence known. The affect was not as immediate as he had thought. Narcissa merely looked up at him, a showdown passing from her tired features. Draco didn't turn, but the room calmed down. Lucius walked over to the table.

"I'm sorry," he tried, looking down at Narcissa.

She sighed and cleared her tea with her wand. She looked over at Draco. He was avoiding Lucius' eyes, staring, instead, at his mother. She nodded curtly and he left without a word. Narcissa stood and began straightening up the spotless kitchen. As she was scrubbing a clean glass, he heard her speak.

"Where were you?"

Her voice seemed tired and relieved. He cleared his throat.

"I went out to the pub for – ah – a nightcap. I seemed to have gotten carried away, however," He started.

"You went to a pub and got completely foxed," It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Yes. And, well, when I was there, I happened across your sister, Bellatrix. She offered to let me stay at her house for the night. I woke up with a scorching headache about an hour ago."

For a moment, Narcissa was quiet. The water continued to run and Lucius was worried she knew. It was impossible, but he still worried. Finally, she turned quietly, and, it seemed, shyly.

"I was worried about you. I thought –"

But whatever she thought, Lucius didn't find out for she broke into tears midway through her sentence. He held her tightly, the back of his mind turning away disgustedly at her tears. But he silently thanked any god there could be that she did not suspect him of cheating.

..

Draco paced up and down the large expanse of his room. He could not believe the sad excuse for a human downstairs was related to him. He didn't know when it started, but recently he had found he could hear passing thoughts in people's heads. Of course, it had its limitations and it wasn't constant. It was only, it seemed, things that the person didn't want anyone to know about. In ten minutes, he had found out everything dark and murky in his mother's mind. He shuddered, trying not to remember. But it was nothing, nothing compared to the thoughts that assaulted him as Lucius walked into the house. He didn't divulge in these things with his mom. She didn't even know the new powers he possessed. For the first time in his life, Draco wished he wasn't a Veela.

He heard his mother crying downstairs, but he knew that Lucius didn't tell her anything. He could feel Lucius' satisfaction and relief radiating from the dining room. He sneered, disgusted at his father. But he knew, deep down, that there was nothing he could do about it. If he told his mother, she would leave Lucius in an instant, and he knew she would die without him. If she stayed with him, she would die inside knowing that Lucius didn't love her anymore and preferred the company of her sister. If Lucius found out Draco knew, he couldn't use it as blackmail because Lucius knew just about as much as Draco did about Narcissa, and he knew she wouldn't leave.

Draco sighed and stopped pacing to sit on the bed. He just noticed that the room was glowing and pulsating with hate and disgust. He closed his eyes and took a few calming breaths. He admitted defeat – he wouldn't tell, and Lucius, he knew, would continue his affair with Bella. He opened his Veela book again to try to find out more.

That night, Lucius left again to go to Bellatrix's house, but Narcissa didn't know that. Only Draco and Lucius knew what would unfold in Bella's mansion that night. He sent a Patronus saying he might not be home until early morning. Narcissa didn't care. She waved it away, just happy to know that he was safe. Draco managed to mask his emotions so his mother wouldn't know from the behaviour of the room. Draco thought about asking Narcissa about the things he had seen in her mind.

"Mom, can I ask you something?" He asked lightly.

"Anything, dear," she said, flipping through Witch Weekly with a slight grin.

"And you promise to answer honestly?" He asked.

Narcissa looked at him over the top of the magazine.

"Of course I will," she said softly.

Draco took a breath and asked, "Were you adopted?"

Narcissa paused in her perusal of the tabloid magazine to shoot Draco a fearful look.

"How did you hear about that?" She asked quickly and quietly.

"I –"

"Who told you? Does Lucius know?" She asked, her voice rising in pitch and volume.

Draco shook his head. "No, I just –"

"Draco, dear, you must listen carefully to me," Narcissa said, leaning close her son, "No one must know about this. Yes, I was adopted. That is why I stay with Lucius. If he knew my real bloodline…" She shuddered.

"I understand, mum," he said, looking down at his feet.

There was a silence where Narcissa regarded her son.

"How did you find out?" She asked, her voice calm save for one crack.

Draco hesitated. It wasn't that he didn't want his mom to know about his abilities, he just didn't want her to know that he knew every bad thought in her mind. He knew she would want him to see her as the person she was now, that she put forth.

"I can – in a weird way – not really meaning to, I mean, it's just part of my Veela blood coming out I'm sure and it's not really anything to – "

Narcissa cut him off with, "I won't judge you, and I won't be mad."

"Well, it's like a form of Legilimency. I can, unwillingly, hear a person's deepest, darkest secrets, or anything they want to keep from anyone," Draco said, with only a few unnatural pauses and hesitancies here and there.

For a moment, he thought she might start yelling at him. The next second, she's beaming like he had just told her he had won some award. Suddenly, she had grabbed him and was hugging him.

"This is wonderful, Draco, just wonderful! Another amazing talent from your blood!"

Draco pulled away from her, regarding her coolly. She seemed much too happy. Something was wrong. He decided that he had to find out what it was using crafty subtlety and calm collectiveness.

"What's wrong?" He asked bluntly.

He'd leave the subtlety to his father.

Before she could respond, they were interrupted by a brown barn owl swooping in through the open window. It landed gracefully in front of Draco, holding a letter out to him. Draco was surprised. He never got letters! He eagerly grabbed the letter, forgetting momentarily about his mother's dark mood. He ripped open the envelope that read in green ink:

Mr. D. Malfoy

Living Room

Malfoy Manor

Wiltshire

He hurriedly read the letter out loud, as his mother was looking at the envelope curiously.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL

_of_ WITCHCRAFT _and_ WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(_Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Malfoy,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

By the time Draco was done reading, his mother was in tears. He looked at her, alarmed, but then she grabbed him in a hug.

"I'm so happy! Of course I knew you'd get into Hogwarts, but I was worried your father would contact Durmstrang before your letter got here!" She said, wiping off her tears.

Draco looked from his letter to his mother.

"I'll be leaving?" He asked quietly.

"I know you're a little skeptic, I was too, but you'll learn all sorts of things you couldn't learn from us, and we promise to write you every single day!" She rushed to tell him.

He looked at her, his eyebrows raised, "We?"

For a moment, Narcissa didn't speak.

"He'll write you. Trust me. I know Lucius," She said.

She didn't bother explaining. It was getting late, and she told Draco to go rest up so they could go to Diagon Alley the next morning. Draco took the stairs two at a time, eager to go to sleep so he could go to Diagon Alley the next day. As soon as he was out of sight, Narcissa's smile fell. She looked down at the owl, who sat cleaning its feathers. She quickly wrote a letter to Dumbledore and sent it along with the owl. After it left, she sat down slowly on the couch.

For a moment, fear gripped her heart. Now her son knew that she had been adopted. She knew he wouldn't tell Lucius intentionally, but she also knew there was a chance Lucius would find out now that more than two people knew about that. On top of that, her only son was going to Hogwarts. She knew it would happen, and she was so happy before the letter came, but then she realized just how much she was going to miss him. She had raised him, without much help from his father, for 11 years, and now he was leaving her. Not forever, she knew he'd be home for holidays, but still. And, thought Narcissa wouldn't tell Draco, she had noticed a shadow pass over his eyes as he told her about his new ability. She knew all the horrible secrets in her mind, but she didn't know all the horrible things in her husband's, and now Draco did.

As though summoned by her thoughts, Lucius walked into the house, looking slightly disheveled, but otherwise completely normal. He looked into the living room and paused as he saw her sitting on the couch, clutching the letter. His eyes flicked down to said letter for a fraction of a second.

"Who's the letter from?" He asked.

Narcissa swore she heard suspicion in his voice, but she passed over that. She held it out to him without saying a word. Lucius grabbed it from her and read it silently. He looked back at her.

"I thought we agreed that he is going to Durmstrang," he said.

His voice would appear calm and harmless to someone who didn't know him, but Narcissa mentally flinched at the dangerous anger hidden in his low timbre.

"No, Lucius, you agreed he would be going to that school. I stayed firm in my decision to let him go to Hogwarts, to which he was invited," she said, knowing she was on thin, cracking ice.

"'To which he was invited'," he said mockingly, "Well, that can be changed. I have plenty of connections at Durmstrang."

"When will you let this go, Lucius? Draco was ecstatic about his letter. He wants to go to Hogwarts, not Durmstrang," she said, spitting the name of that horrible school.

Lucius stopped arguing his point. His eyes seemed to flash suddenly, and he grinned, a look she hadn't seen in years.

"If you insist, love," he said.

Narcissa watched him walk upstairs and she stayed on the couch for a while, wondering what Lucius planned to do.

..

Early the next morning, Draco and Narcissa set off for Diagon Alley. Lucius was gone when she awoke, but she wasn't too worried. He liked to hang around the Ministry, getting chummy with high officials. They took the Muggle train, and Narcissa couldn't hold down her laughter as she saw the Muggles wonder why the chairs and poles seemed to be quivering with excitement. In fact, some of them seemed to become increasingly energized the closer they were to Draco.

As they walked into the Leaky Cauldron, they saw only a few people littered around the grimy pub. They walked into Diagon Alley and Narcissa felt the air thicken with amazement. Younger witches and wizards around them would become astounded by simple things as they passed by Draco.

Narcissa took him to get ice cream first. They sat, each licking their own delicious flavours on sugar cones, Narcissa had the frozen chocolate frog while Draco tried out Bertie Bott's every flavour cream, and discussed where to go next.

"Let me go get my robes, mum. That should be fun," he said, his face changing as every bite turned into a different flavour.

"Then I'll get your school books and some other things. After your robes, we'll go get your wand and an owl together, ok?" She asked, trying to keep her ice cream from jumping in or out of her mouth.

"How about a new broomstick?" He asked. Narcissa smiled.

"And a broomstick. But you can't take it to school. First years aren't allowed to bring their own," she said, rolling her eyes. Draco smiled back.

After they finished their ice creams, Draco walked straight over to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, a pouch of money jingling in his pocket. He entered the shop to see a stout woman dressed in a lavender colour.

"Hogwarts?" She asked before he even opened his mouth.

She guided him to the back of the shop and she began fitting him for some robes. As she was nearing the end, the door opened. Madam Malkin went to greet the new customer and Draco looked in the mirror. The nearly finished robes looked nice on him. He imagined himself walking around the school in the robes, his head held high, a broomstick over his left shoulder, adoring girls following him. This bubble popped when he realized that he would probably be shivering with nerves as he walked into the castle, as only a castle would be large enough to fit all the students.

As he imagined what the castle could be like, he noticed the temperature in the room raise slightly. The room seemed to be waiting, but Draco wasn't feeling that anxious. He amused himself with the thought that the room had reacted before his feelings were known as Madam Malkin guided the newcomer to where Draco was standing.

"…young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

Draco did a double take of the person that came walking toward him. He felt curious about this boy with dark, messy hair, baggy Muggle clothes and round glasses. The room, however seemed to be just about jumping with happiness. Madam Malkin muttered something about gypsy warlocks, and other customers were getting annoyed at the room's behaviour, but Draco couldn't keep his eyes off the boy. Madam Malkin began to fit up Draco and he wished he had something to say.

"Hello," He tried.

The boy looked up at him under soot black lashes with startling green eyes. Draco tried not to stare, but it was hard.

"Hogwarts, too?" He asked, then mentally slapped himself.

The boy just smiled, relieved, it seemed, to find a fellow school mate.

"Yes," he said.

Draco's spine shivered with the sound of the voice and wished he knew his name. His palms were sweating, and the room wasn't becoming nervous, it was still overly happy, which made Draco more nervous.

"M-My mum's up the street, getting my school books. Are you here with your parents?" Draco asked, ignoring his stutter. The boy ignored it too.

"No," he said.

Again, Draco wished he had something better to say. He tried to talk about Hogwarts, but for some reason, all he could remember about the place was Slytherin and Quidditch.

"What house will you be in, do you suppose?" Draco tried.

"Erm, well…" The boy tried.

"What's your name?" He begged, not knowing that he had just saved the boy from further embarrassment.

Before the boy could say anything, Madam Malkin proclaimed Draco finished and started working on the boy. Draco edged toward the door with his purchases.

"My name is Draco Malfoy," Draco said, trying to hint that he still didn't know the boy's name.

The boy smiled and opened his mouth to answer; Draco was simply shaking with anxiety, curiosity, and desire to just hear the name. Suddenly, the glass on the mirror cracked and Madam Malkin pushed Draco away from the boy as she scrambled for her wand. He nearly screamed with frustration and stomped off to find his mother. He would see the boy again. They were both going to Hogwarts, after all.

He found Narcissa just outside the shop and they went to get his wand (10 inches, Hawthorn, unicorn hair core, nice and thick, good for jinxes), an eagle owl, and a broomstick.

"Which one do you like?" She asked, grinning.

Draco sighed and grumbled, "Whatever."

Narcissa looked at him sideways.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

He shook his head. He really didn't want to discuss with his mother how empty he felt now that the boy wasn't in his line of sight or how he ached to know his name. In any case, he was sure he couldn't really explain how he felt with words.

"I don't really need a broom. What's the point? I can't take it to school anyway. I'll have dad get me one next year," He said and they walked away from the racing brooms on display.

At the mention of his father, Narcissa's mouth drew into a hard, thin line. Draco noticed, but, for once, didn't really care. It took all his energy to block out all the secrets being voiced around him, anyway. It wasn't impossible, though. If he didn't feel like listening, they didn't go away completely, they just turned into near-silent whispers, which were hard not to be curious about.

They went back home with their spoils and Draco walked up to his room immediately. Narcissa walked into the dining room and saw Lucius cooking dinner. She stopped and stared at him.

"What are you doing?" She asked, completely amazed.

Lucius looked up at her and smiled.

"Narcissa, darling, we thought you weren't ever going to get back from Diagon Alley!" He said.

"You went and got all of Draco's supplies? You must be so excited to have him go to school!" said a voice behind Lucius.

Narcissa stepped to the left and saw Bellatrix lounging in a chair, sipping a glass of white wine at the dining room table.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the evil cliffie!! I thought it was interesting though. I didn't plan on Bella being there, she just appeared. I actually wanted Lucius to keep buttering Narcissa up so she'd be distracted to what he was doing!!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

A/N: Sorry about that last cliffy!! i love you all though so, have fun with this one. On with the show?

* * *

Narcissa smiled at her sister.

"Yes, we're quite ecstatic to have our Draco going to Hogwarts tomorrow."

Lucius looked behind Narcissa.

"Where is Draco, anyway?" He wondered.

Narcissa hesitated before walking up the stairs to fetch him. While she was away, Lucius turned back to the dinner being made. Bellatrix continued to sip her wine.

"Well, this is fun, dear," Bella said.

"It'll get better. You remember the plan, right?" Lucius asked.

Bella fiddled with her wand, refilling her glass with something darker and more potent. She grinned evilly, a flash passing across her heavily-lidded eyes.

"Of course I do."

They were interrupted by Narcissa bringing Draco downstairs.

"…you want to say goodbye to your father and your dear Aunt Bella?"

They rounded the corner and Draco's face blanched as he saw his 'dear Aunt Bella' sitting at the dining room table. For only a second, the room hummed with anger and hatred, and then it was gone, filled instead with what seemed strained happiness, though hardly anyone but Lucius and Draco noticed.

"Hello Auntie Bella," Draco greeted his aunt, wincing slightly as he heard the thoughts she didn't want anyone to know. He managed to block everything out except –

"Why, Draco! I haven't seen you for so long. My how you've grown," She said, her voice deadly sweet and dangerously soft.

Draco gave her a stiff, yet tight hug before joining her at the table.

"So, to what do we owe this unexpected pleasure, Bella?" Narcissa asked brightly, sitting down across from her sister.

"Lucius bumped into me outside the – ah – ministry building, wasn't it?"

Draco had a flash of memory of his father slamming his auntie up against a brick wall, muffling her gasp with his mouth. Draco shivered and tried to refocus on the conversation at hand.

"…insisted I come home and say goodbye to Draco before he went away," Bellatrix said, smiling at Draco.

Draco shivered again.

"Dinner's ready," Lucius said, giving Bella a look.

Draco noticed the look and he listened in on their secret thoughts. In-between the memories of tangled bed sheets and silent screams, he heard Lucius saying something about a distraction.

Suddenly, Bella yelped. Draco snapped out of the thoughts to look at her. She had spilled some of her drink onto her new robes.

"I'll just call a house-elf for you, Bella dear," Narcissa said, her forehead wrinkling in worry.

Draco looked back and forth from his father to Bella to his mother, snapping her fingers. No house-elf was coming because Lucius needed Narcissa out of the room. But why? What did he want with–?

Narcissa guided Bella out of the room, muttering something about the house-elves being exceptionally lazy lately and Draco felt the room start to panic. It took him a moment to realize he was afraid. As soon as the girls were gone, Draco looked over at Lucius, who was glaring at him.

"What do you want?" Draco asked, standing quickly.

"I wanted to talk to you. Alone. Without your mother interfering," Lucius said coolly.

He reached into his inside coat pocket and withdrew a piece of parchment. It was addressed to Draco in red ink. It was from Durmstrang, welcoming him to the school. Draco gave Lucius a puzzled look.

"Durmstrang? But I already have everything for Hogwarts," he said.

"Things can be returned, transferred, or traded. Durmstrang would suit you well, Draco. I know the Headmaster there. He is an old friend," Lucius explained calmly.

Draco had a flash of the Dark Mark on a stranger's left arm.

"And it would be good for you to get away from home. Your mother needs to cut the umbilical cord already. You're eleven years old. You don't need to be coddled by your mother constantly," Lucius was smiling evilly at Draco.

Draco felt the room start to shake. Of he went to Durmstrang, he couldn't go to Hogwarts. He would never see that boy from the robes shop again. He needed to see him. He needed to know him. He needed him. The room felt like an earthquake had hit it. Draco was giving his father a panicked look.

"I have to go to Hogwarts," he whispered.

Lucius took a step toward Draco, who refused to back down.

"You will go to whatever school I tell you to go to," Lucius said between clenched teeth.

"Why?" He asked, his voice rising in volume.

There seemed to be a wind in the house, whistling through the room, whipping Draco and Lucius' hair around. Lucius didn't seem to notice.

"I already told you, son. Distancing yourself from your mother will only do you good."

Draco had had enough.

"You just don't want me to tell mummy about your oh-so-secret love affair with 'Auntie Bella'," Draco said, his voice nearing a shout.

Lucius' jaw dropped. Draco grinned.

"Oops! I bet you didn't think I knew about that!" Draco yelled.

But now Lucius was reaching for Draco. Draco panicked. The only thought he held onto was that he needed to go to Hogwarts and he needed to push his father back. The wind howled through the room, creating a whirlwind around Draco and pushing Lucius away from him. Draco was staring wide-eyed at his father.

"YOU – WILL – GO – TO – DURMSTRANG!" Lucius bellowed.

"NO!" Draco shrieked, pushing a ball of energy at Lucius chest, knocking him off his feet and across the kitchen into the living room.

Draco was breathing heavily, but Lucius was not standing back up from the ground. Narcissa and Bellatrix were standing in the doorway. Narcissa rushed forward to check on Draco while Bellatrix walked toward the door. Lucius could not move, but his eyes caught Bella's before she left. She was looking at him with disgust and something like familiarity in her eyes. She slammed her door on her way out as darkness crept into Lucius' vision, pulling him under into a black, suffocating emptiness.

..

The next day, Draco dressed quickly. His mother was taking him to the Hogwarts Express before his father had time to wake up. The day was dark and dreary, completely reflecting Draco's mood. He walked mutely, dragging his trunk behind him, Narcissa carrying his owl. She was as quiet as he was, staring straight ahead. Neither of them spoke of what had happened the night before, and Draco was glad of it. He couldn't explain what had happened in the kitchen and he didn't want to try.

They reached the barrier between platform 9 and 10 and Narcissa hugged him for a long time.

"You be good at Hogwarts, ok? Do well in your classes, be nice to the teachers, and write me every day. Got it?" She asked.

"Cause mischief, show up everyone in Potions, kiss-up to the teachers, and write you every day. Got it," He said, trying to lighten the mood. It worked.

"And don't you forget it!" She said before giving him another quick hug and pushing him in the direction of the barrier.

Draco crossed it easily and walked toward the train. He was early and there were many empty compartments. He took one close to the front, putting his trunk up on top and placing his eagle owl on the seat next to him. He stroked his feathers affectionately. He had never given his bird a name. Before he could contemplate this further, the compartment door opened and a girl with short black hair and a scrunched face poked her head in to look at him.

"Oh, sorry, I thought this was empty," She said, not sounding the least bit sorry.

Draco sniffed condescendingly.

"Well maybe next time you'll notice people more important than yourself. Or are you destined to be in Hufflepuff?" He countered.

He knew she was destined to be in Slytherin, and he knew that if he got on well with her, he might have adoring fans before he knew it. She seemed to be a popular girl. For a moment, she just stared at him. Then, she stuck out a hand, grinning.

"My name's Pansy. What's yours?"

Draco smiled back and shook her hand. Phase one was complete. Now all he needed were some minions to boss around. As though summoned by his thoughts, two hulking boys sat down on either side of Pansy. She rolled her eyes.

"Draco, dear, this is Crabbe," she motioned to the boy on her right, who cracked his knuckles, "and this is Goyle," she said, motioning to the other boy, who simply stared straight ahead. In fact, "simple" seemed to pretty much sum up both the boys.

"Crabbe and Goyle, this is Malfoy," she said dully.

Draco met Blaise Zabini soon after, who was an extremely handsome, dark boy. Pansy was obviously besotted with him and Draco tried to ignore the "I LOVE YOU BLAISE!!" coming from her head, but it was hard. Halfway into the journey, Draco got up the nerve to ask them if they knew about a boy with black hair and round glasses. Pansy shot Blaise a look.

"Well, the rumor is that Harry Potter's on this train. That sounds like him, too," Blaise said in his deep, slightly flirty voice.

Draco stood suddenly and motioned his head toward the door. Crabbe and Goyle stood obediently and followed him outside. As they walked down the hallway, looking into the compartments, the windows started to shake with anticipation. Every time Draco caught a glance of black hair, the windows gave a jolt of happiness, but returned to shivering when Draco realized it wasn't the boy. Towards the end of the train they saw him sitting in a compartment with a ginger-haired boy surrounded by food trolley candy. They slid the door open and caught a little snippet of the conversation.

"– is called the snitch," the ginger-haired boy said. Draco recognized him as a Weasley.

"Hello," Draco addressed the boy with raven-black hair, thick black lashes, and stunning green eyes.

His breath caught momentarily and the tiny compartment was suddenly overly excited, just as the robe shop had been. The boy looked up at Draco and smiled.

"Hey, Draco. This is my friend Ron Weasley," the boy said.

Draco didn't even look at the Weasley. All of them were the same according to his mother. Red hair, hand-me-down robes, zillions of children, and Gryffindor.

"There's a rumor going around that Harry Potter's on the train and he fits your description," Draco said. He nodded to the boy. "Is it true?"

The boy smiled again and Draco felt his cheeks burn slightly.

"Yeah, that's me. I tried to tell you in the robes shop, but it was crazy, what with the mirror randomly exploding and something setting fire…"

Draco found himself falling into Harry's green eyes, drowning in their splendor. For a moment, he tried to see into Harry's head, but only succeeded in hearing the Weasley rant about his brothers. He started to panic. Why couldn't he hear Harry's thoughts? The wind was starting to gather in the compartment, so Draco left with Crabbe and Goyle to go back to their compartment. It wasn't until he was sitting down across from Pansy again that he realized he had left completely abruptly, without a word of goodbye or acknowledgement at Harry's name. Pansy looked up at him.

"Are you alright, Draco? You look like you just ran from the platform to Hogwarts," she noted.

Blaise's eyes flashed and he quirked a knowing grin but, thankfully, didn't say anything.

"Erm – yeah, it's uh –" Before he could choke anything remotely interesting out, a girl with loads of bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth opened the compartment door.

"Have any of you seen a toad?" She asked, looking around their feet.

Pansy stood, smirking. She looked behind the girl to see a boy whimpering in the hallway, shooting glances around his feet.

"Maybe we have, and maybe we haven't. No way I'm telling you though," Pansy said sneering.

The girl opened her mouth to either retort or to say something else, but Blaise was suddenly on his feet.

"You'll want to go change into your robes, little girl. We'll be there soon," He said.

His voice was both demanding and almost dazzling in a way. Draco himself would have gone to the ends of the earth if Blaise asked him to, but this girl was a tough nut to crack. It wasn't until she caught a glance at Draco that her jaw drop and she started stammering and soon left. Pansy cackled and turned back to Draco.

"Figured that would happen sooner or later. Blaise is smooth, but he's got nothing on your looks," Pansy said, then turned to Blaise, "No offence, dear."

Blaise didn't say a word. He was looking at Draco like something had just clicked. Draco had the impression that Blaise knew everything, and if he didn't, he could convince you that he did. Draco envied that. Draco mentally shook himself. He was NOT envious of anyone. Malfoy's didn't envy people; they made sure people envied them. Draco knew that his Veela blood status ensured him good, no, great looks, but nothing truly spectacular until he reached a certain age.

"Are you going to change, Draco?" Pansy asked, throwing him his robes from his trunk.

He quickly tugged his robes on and remembered everything he had been brought up to be. Even if his father was hardly around, when he was he made sure to tell Draco what Malfoy's were and what they weren't. And Malfoy's were leaders. Draco was sure that, once he became a Slytherin like he was destined to become, he would become the leader, instead of the follower as he was now. He observed Pansy. She could be easily swayed to become his follower. Crabbe and Goyle were a done deal. As Draco turned his eyes to Blaise, he realized there might be difficulty in making him bend to his every will. He was a free-thinker, something that would definitely not do. Like he said, Malfoy's weren't followers.

..

The train sputtered to a halt and the older kids jumped out, happy to be back, while the first years nervously walked into the throng of bodies. It was dark and a little chilly, but it was a clear night. Draco looked up and searched for his star, or, rather, the star that shared his name. He found it, and felt a little better. Draco led his new group over to a large man that was shouting for the first years. As they neared him, Draco realized he was not just a big man. He was huge! As tall as a house and nearly as wide, his voice boomed over the heads of the jostling school-goers.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" He called.

Harry conversed with the large man, but Draco couldn't concentrate on anything.

"Draco, let's go," Blaise said, pushing Draco towards the boats.

Draco, Pansy, and Blaise managed to fit in one of the boats, but there was room for another. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other stupidly, but before either of them could decide which one would go without the other, a small girl sat down with them. Draco was surprised, but didn't show it. The girl had long blonde hair and glasses. Her face was little and soft, her skin as pale as Draco's.

"Hello, my name's Luna, Luna Lovegood," she introduced herself.

Her voice was dreamy and soft. They each introduced themselves quietly, as they had no choice. Pansy was looking at the girl like she was a freak. Luna looked over at Draco and tilted her head.

"You're awfully handsome. Even in this darkness I can tell," she said frankly, yet in the same dreamy voice.

Draco was surprised at her forwardness and awkward bluntness. She struck him as a very different individual.

"Erm… thanks?" It came out as a question, though he hadn't meant it to be so.

She had no time to reply, though, as they had reached the castle. They got out of their boats and stared up at the looming fortress standing before them. Draco tried not to show how intimidated he was, but the only one who seemed capable of having such an air of indifference was Luna, who was smiling dreamily at it.

"It's pretty big, isn't it?" Draco asked her. She smiled serenely.

"Oh, it's not that big. You must be suffering from –"

But Draco didn't hear what he was suffering from as the large man shouted to them.

"Follow me!" Then he knocked on the castle doors three times.

The door swung open soon after and a tall, dark-haired, stern looking witch stood waiting for them.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," the man said, pleased with himself. She nodded curtly.

"Thank you Hagrid," she said to him before turning to the children to say, "Follow me."

They followed her through the large castle door into the entrance hall, which was roughly the size of Malfoy Manor. Draco nearly dropped his jaw but, after a glance at Luna's undisturbed face, looked forward to another door. They crossed the marble floor to a door on the right of the majestic door leading to, what Draco supposed must be, The Great Hall. They filed in to the small but snug chamber. Draco craned his neck to see Harry, but he couldn't be found.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall started.

She began to tell them about the sorting ceremony, which Draco actually knew very little about. She named the four houses and Draco smirked to his new group as she ended with "Slytherin". She went on to tell them about the house points and ended with telling them to "smarten up" letting her eyes stray to a boy whose cloak was fastened wrong and the Weasel, who undoubtedly had something wrong with him. She left then, leaving them all to worry quietly until the Sorting Ceremony began. Draco adopted a bored look, Luna her same, serene smile, Pansy a scrunched glare, Blaise a scorching gaze, and Crabbe and Goyle a blank face. Draco soon turned to Luna.

"Which house do you suppose you'll be in?" He demanded. He hoped she'd say Slytherin. She gazed at him lazily.

"I don't really know, actually. I expect you'll be in Slytherin?" She asked.

Draco was about to ask her how she knew, but there was suddenly a scream from the back of the room. They all turned to see about twenty or so ghosts streaming happily into the room. They were chattering to each other, not registering the group of terrified first years just below them.

"Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" One of the ghosts had finally realized they were there.

Draco held back a snort. While the others talked to the ghosts, he watched the door for Professor McGonagall. She finally returned and tersely ordered them inside the Great Hall. They followed her single file, Luna directly behind Draco, to the front of the Hall. Draco glanced around the huge room. He hadn't really noticed the affects of his mood on the surrounding area since he got inside the castle and he realized it only barely affected anything. Four long tables with benches took up the majority of the Hall, while a fifth table sat at the front perpendicular to them. There the staff sat, while the tables separated the students into their houses. Candles floated above them dancing merrily against the background of the ceiling, which happened to look just as the sky outside. A few of the candles shimmered with Draco's nervousness, but he was sure no one noticed. In a room as vast as this with so many people (or, rather, witches and wizards) in it, Draco was sure it was hard for any of his powers to work properly. Indeed, only a few stray thoughts entered his mind, and they were weak at best.

The line finally halted and Draco uncomfortably noticed the many stares he was receiving. He tried to tell himself that they were merely scanning him – searching for younger brothers and sisters or, perhaps, the famous Harry Potter. At the front of the room, he noticed a stool sitting right in front of Dumbledore, who sat in the middle of the staff's table. Everyone soon turned their attention to the hat as well. For a moment, there was apprehensive silence. Then, unexpectedly, a rip near the brim of the hat opened wide and began to – _sing?_

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So put me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm the Thinking Cap!"

Draco clapped politely while the rest of the Hall erupted in cheers and whistles. Draco rolled his eyes. It's a hat.

"That was a nice song, don't you think?" Luna asked. She was not clapping at all. Draco shrugged.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward with a long piece of parchment and read a name off the list. The girl belonging to the name (Habbott or Anna or something like that) stepped forward and nervously tried the hat on, sitting on the stool. For a moment, there was silence, then –

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat shouted.

The girl jumped off the stool excitedly and went to join the Hufflepuff table, who was cheering and screeching with happiness. McGonagall went down the list of names and one by one, the appointed student went to sit at their respective tables, followed by shouting and screaming. The first to become a Slytherin was a Maleficent Bowlstroode (if Draco had heard the name right). Draco hummed and tapped his foot waiting anxiously. Crabbe went to Slytherin and Goyle followed soon after.

When it got to "Lovegood, Luna", Draco watched and wished and pleaded. The hat stayed on her head for a while, and it seemed to fit her, somehow, that large, bulky old hat. The rip near the brim opened and –

"RAVENCLAW!" it shouted.

Draco's jaw dropped. Ravenclaw?! He glanced over at Pansy, who was watching Luna go with a sad smile. Draco seriously reconsidered going into Slytherin. He glanced around, looking for Harry. He felt a tiny bit of hope about Harry joining him in Slytherin, but knew there was not a chance. Harry was the Gryffindor type. Draco thought about Gryffindor. It wasn't that bad of a house. Not as bad as Hufflepuff, in any case…

"Malfoy, Draco," Professor McGonagall called.

* * *

A/N: I know, this is the worst cliffy ever, but I'm seriously considering Draco's options here. I know I'll make the right decision in the end, but right now I knew I had to leave you with a cliffy because I honestly don't know what'll happen next. I almost made Zabini a vampire, but knew that would be a little too much. I have NO idea how Luna became BFF's with Draco. Anyway, reviews? Tell me what you think. The wind thing was a little weird… And yes, it was necessary to put in the hat's song. :D


	8. Chapter 8

Malignant Narcissism

Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you, kittenonabroomstick!! I'm always watching for what you have to say to my progression on the story. Everyone else who has reviewed me rocks my freaking socks as well, but I thought I'd give k.o.a.b. a little thank you for the suggestion. I hope you like what happens in this chapter because I honestly have no idea what I'm gonna do. "From here on in I shoot without a script" (kudos to those who know what that's from) On with the ride! Cuz trust me, it's gonna be bumpy.

Disclaimer: (for a change of pace) I do not own Harry Potter. Ha!

* * *

Draco stiffened. Pansy nodded for him to go up and he nodded back. Eyes followed him as he walked up to the stool, some curious, some dumbstruck. He set his jaw, more determined. He sat down on the stool and caught Luna's smiling eyes. Just before the hat went down over his head and eyes, he saw Harry Potter watching him. He sat up a little straighter. The hat covered his eyes and there was a silence. Suddenly, a voice that was not his own went through his mind.

"Interesting. Very interesting."

Draco assumed it was the hat, raking his brain for attributes to the different houses.

"You have a good mind, Draco. That much is sure. Very clever. Ravenclaw would serve you well, I think. But I also see Slytherin in your blood."

Draco beamed proudly, but blanched at the next comment.

"Plenty of Gryffindor in you, Draco. Yes, yes, plenty of that. Loads of courage and chivalry and all that. Ah, I also see a conflict of friends and – what is this? Veela blood? Very interesting."

Draco was getting impatient. Why couldn't the hat just make up his mind?

"Slytherin would be the obvious choice, but I also see this bursting bit of you that refuses to have anything to do with your father, and that could be a Gryffindor…"

_Please, just pick something!_ Draco begged.

"Getting a little impatient? Well, I think I might have it now. I'm assuming you have qualms against Hufflepuff, eh? Then better make it GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco heard the hat shout the last word to the entire hall. Professor McGonagall took the hat off Draco's head and he walked over to the Gryffindor table, where silence greeted him. There was no applause, except a polite clap from a certain Ravenclaw friend. Like himself, everyone assumed there had been a mistake. He was an obvious choice for Slytherin, right? He dared a glance at Pansy, Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle, who all snubbed him. He couldn't believe it. How did he get here?

Before he had any more time to ponder how or why he was there, the next name had been called to "HUFFLEPUFF!" He watched Pansy walk up to the front of the room and he sighed, knowing she was going into Slytherin. As he watched, he saw the rip near the brim opened and he closed his eyes.

"GRYFFINDOR!" It yelled.

Draco's eyes shot opened and we watched, openmouthed, as Pansy Parkinson walked towards him. He clapped wildly, but he was one of the very few who did. Whispers began to start up. Why were the Slytherins going into Gryffindor?

"I couldn't leave you, Draco. We have a connection, you know? I just only hope Blaise and Theo come in here, too."

As Blaise's last name was Zabini, they had to wait a while for him, but they watched as Theodore Nott sat on the stool. For a moment, the hat sat almost dumbfounded, then yelled,

"RAVENCLAW!"

Draco and Pansy clapped politely, yet saddened. Pansy told Draco that Theo was actually really smart.

"He's already read all the course books and whatnot. Probably more. He's totally Pure, so he can practice his spells at home. He'll fit right in with Luna," she said.

The girl with bushy brown hair (Hermione was it?) reached across the table to shake their hands.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. Draco and Pansy, right? I'm so excited to be here, I'm just trying to make friends with who I can," she said, eyeing Pansy.

"Well, you can join us. We're waiting for a friend of ours, actually, hopefully he'll be in Gryffindor, too, but –"

"Potter, Harry." Professor McGonagall called.

Draco stopped speaking to watch. His eyes were alive with excitement and the golden plate in front of him seemed to be vibrating. Harry sat down on the stool and plopped the hat on his head, disappearing underneath it just as Draco had. They waited for five whole minutes before Draco started to get worried. What if he wasn't in Gryffindor? Draco nearly pulled his hair out in frustration before the hat's mouth opened.

"SLYTHERIN!" It yelled.

Time stopped. Draco felt frustration jumping and pulsing through his veins. He couldn't believe this! The most Gryffindor person in the whole school was in Slytherin? How could this have happened?! He stood up and pointed at Dumbledore. No one was paying him any attention; they were too busy watching Harry make his way to his appointed table.

"How dare you!" He yelled at the hat and the headmaster. "How dare you!"

"Hey Draco, not falling asleep on us, are you?"

Draco started and woke up. He looked around at the compartment.

"As I was saying, Crabbe and Goyle, this is Malfoy," she said dully.

Draco started. He had already met them, hadn't he? He met Blaise Zabini soon after, and he was exactly as he had been before: dark, soft spoken, and handsome.

Draco shook his head. What was going on? Was that a dream or something more? Was it a premonition? He didn't know very many wizards who could see the future in such detail. It had felt so real. Suddenly, he got up the nerve to talk about Harry. Blaise and Pansy shared a look.

"Well, there's a rumor going around that Harry Potter's on the train. That description sure sounds like what I've heard," Blaise said.

Draco took Crabbe and Goyle down to Harry's compartment. He had to do something to make sure Harry went into Gryffindor. If he was in Slytherin, he would grow up to be just another Dark Lord! Draco found the compartment easily and opened it as Ron was talking about Quidditch.

"Hey," Draco said to Harry, who smiled in response. No, this was wrong. Draco set his jaw.

"Hey Draco! This is Ron, my friend. And, I don't think you caught my name earlier, but I'm Harry Potter?" Harry said, making polite introductions. Instead of ignoring Weasley, Draco gave him a sneer.

"You're a Weasley aren't you? My mo- father has told me all about you. Red hair, freckles, more kids than they can afford." Draco snorted. Now he knew what he had to do.

"You'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand, knowing Harry would snub him. After all, he had just told a boy that his best friend was trash. However, Draco longed to shake Harry's hand. He was surprised.

"Draco, can't we all just be friends? There's nothing wrong with Ron. Come sit down with us," he offered, taking Draco's hand and guiding him to a seat not covered in sweets. Draco gave Crabbe and Goyle a look that told them to get lost. This hadn't been his plan originally.

For the rest of the ride, Draco actually had a good time sharing candy, swapping Quidditch stories, and staring at Harry. He learned that Harry had been living in the Muggle world all his life, and only found out he was a wizard when he got his letter. Draco couldn't imagine living his life without magic. Maybe it was just his Veela blood talking. After a while, the girl with bushy hair, Hermione, came by.

"You'd best get your school robes on," she said quickly, before halting a giggling, running group of girls in the hallway.

Draco turned to go, but before he did, he grabbed Harry.

"Listen to me, Harry, and this is important. The Sorting Hat listens to your suggestions, ok? I'm not a Slytherin, though people I know are, and they aren't nice at all. You don't want to be in Slytherin. Remember that, ok?" Draco begged.

Harry was utterly confused, but he promised to remember. Draco nodded to him and Ron and left to go back to his own compartment.

..

The train stopped and Draco's heart was hammering. He followed mutely to the sound of "Firs' years over here!" One second he was walking toward the large man, the next minute he was sitting in a boat with Blaise and Pansy. He looked out over the water, working in his mind what he was doing. He sighed, and realized that he couldn't keep it from Blaise and Pansy. He had to tell them.

"You're awfully handsome. Even in this darkness I can tell," said a voice.

Draco looked around. There was Luna, smiling at him without a care in the world. He smiled back.

"Hi, I'm Draco," he said. the

"Luna Lovegood."

Blaise and Pansy introduced themselves as well. Draco knew this was the moment to tell them his plans.

"Pansy? Blaise? I have something to tell you."

He explained everything from his blood status to Harry Potter, from Bellatrix to the vision. Pansy was enthralled and nodded along with him. Blaise was silent, his intensely and bizarrely bright hazel eyes focused on Draco. Finally, Draco finished. Pansy was staring at him, her jaw nearly touching the floor. Blaise opened his mouth to speak, but it was Luna who broke the silence.

"That's a really good plan," she said, her voice still dreamy, but Draco found the meaning in her words.

"It's a good plan. You're bound to get into Gryffindor with that plan. You're telling us that you're willing to give up everything you had been raised to know to save someone's future. A person who defeated Voldemort and, in a way, completely ruined your family. Is that what I'm hearing?" Blaise asked.

Draco thought about that. It was going beyond anything Draco had ever thought, but he imagined Blaise thought on a completely different level than anyone he knew.

"Yes," was his answer.

Blaise and Pansy sat in silence for only a moment, Luna humming quietly to herself. Finally, Blaise put a hand out to shake Draco's.

"Then I guess we're going with you. You're going to need a lot of help being in Gryffindor when you were destined to be in Slytherin. It would be awfully lonely without someone to help you out," he said and Draco clasped his hand.

Pansy smiled and said, "I guess that means turning over a new leaf, then," and gave Draco a hug.

"We're there," Luna said moments before the boat touched the shore.

Draco barely looked up at the castle. He didn't notice where he was walking; he was on auto-pilot. Suddenly they were in the little room off the side of the Great Hall. Draco ignored the ghosts floating through the wall, he was waiting for McGonagall.

"Follow me," she said.

The first years followed McGonagall, each as nervous as the person next to them. Somewhere near the back of the single-file line, Harry Potter was mulling over Draco's words. In the front of the line, Draco was hoping Harry remembered what he had warned him about. He vaguely heard Blaise telling Theodore Nott the basics of the plan without going into the gory details. Draco heard the hat sing a song about Hogwarts, then McGonagall shouting out names. They didn't bother telling Crabbe and Goyle their plan, resulting in the two of them going into Slytherin. Draco didn't really pay attention. He did note, however, that Luna went into Ravenclaw like last time. He was really just listening to the names, noting where they were in the alphabet. Finally, he heard "Nott, Theodore", who got into Gryffindor. There was shocked silence all around. Draco remembered the silence that had followed him in his vision. He was visibly shaking now, just waiting for his name to be called. Then –

"Malfoy, Draco."

He gulped, and Pansy gave him a small push. He set his jaw and walked stiffly towards the stool on which the hat sat waiting. Draco sat down on the stool. Just before the hat went over his eyes, he saw a thousand pairs of eyes on him, all as anxious as him. One pair, however, was curious. Startling green and sparkling with interest. Then there was darkness. Draco hadn't appreciated how dark it was inside the hat during his vision.

"Interesting! I see a plan to save a person from utter self-destruction," a voice whispered through his mind.

_Not Slytherin, please, not Slytherin. _

"I have no intention of putting you in Slytherin. You hardly have a drop of Slytherin in you at all. It's just your ancestry. I was thinking of Ravenclaw, but with your plan in mind, I see that I would be mistaken in putting you anywhere else but GRYFFINDOR!" Draco heard the hat shout the last word to the whole Hall.

Draco stood, handing the hat to a very shocked Professor McGonagall. The whole Hall seemed focused solely on Draco as he walked to his House table. He looked for a pair of green eyes in the mix and immediately found Harry's eyes watching him. He looked – relieved.

"Nott, Theodore," McGonagall called, and instantly all eyes were off of Draco. All except those green eyes.

Theo joined Luna in Ravenclaw and Draco smiled, knowing Theo was happy. Then Pansy was called up. The Hat called out "Gryffindor" and as she walked toward Draco, she, too, was met with stony silence. Luna waved to Draco suddenly and he waved back, smiling. Draco was watching Harry, knowing his name was coming up. After "Perks, Sally-Anne" became a Hufflepuff, he heard it.

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry walked forward, keeping his eyes firmly on the Hat in front of him. Draco heard the whispers around him.

"_The _Harry Potter?"

"Did she say _Harry Potter_?"

Before the hat fell down over Harry's eyes, he glanced over at Draco. Draco gave him a warm, friendly smile, hoping against hope that the plan worked. For a moment, the hat was completely silent. Draco was sure he saw Harry muttering, but he was probably just imagining it. Then, out of nowhere, the hat screamed "GRYFFINDOR!" Draco, Pansy, and all the other Gryffindors stood up to clap. Draco heard some people boasting ("We got Potter! We got Potter!"). Harry was walking toward him, shaking perceptibly. Draco motioned him over to the spot on his right and Harry plopped down happily next to him.

"You remembered," Draco said, relief pouring through him.

Harry smiled, "Of course. Why would I want to go to Slytherin?"

Draco didn't have a chance to respond because "Thomas, Dean" had just been sorted into Gryffindor and the whole table was in an uproar of excitement. The girl with bushy, brown hair sidled up to sit across from Harry, next to a prefect. Harry stiffened and grinned over at Ron, who was walking toward the hat. Draco smiled as the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!" There seemed to be a lot of Gryffindors this year. Draco watched Blaise, who was last to be called. He walked calmly to the hat and placed it delicately on his head. Draco and Pansy shot each other nervous, furtive glances as they waited. They needn't have worried, however, because moments after, Blaise Zabini joined them at the Gryffindor table. He shook hands with Harry Potter immediately.

"It's an honor to meet you, Harry," Blaise said, but was looking at Draco.

..

The feast went by happily, and Draco found himself smiling much more than he usually did. He kept catching Harry's eye, blissful beyond belief that his plan had worked. The Headmaster stood up to give the students a few announcements, mostly about what not to do during their duration at the school. Draco found himself growing very sleepy. Then, the Headmaster was asking them to sing. Draco glanced around him, but everyone was looking up at Dumbledore. Words to the Hogwarts song were coming out of Dumbledore's wand. Draco felt a bubble in his chest. Without warning, he began to sing along with everyone else.

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Draco didn't notice that a few people around him had stopped singing just to listen to him. He had never sung in his life, but it seemed to be second nature to him. He closed his eyes as the music flowed through him. He didn't even need to look at the words. He knew the words. He knew the tune. It was his own tune, the tune of his heart. Suddenly everything was clear. He knew his place in the world and everything would be alright in the end. Then, his voice faded out as the song ended and he opened his eyes. Nearly every single girl was watching him. He looked around, extremely embarrassed. Blaise was looking at Draco and smiling. Pansy's jaw was down again, her eyes sparkling. He heard two other people still singing the song to the tune of a slow funeral march. He looked up into Harry's eyes, which seemed dazed.

"What did you say?" Harry asked, snapping out of his stupor.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "I didn't say anything."

"No, what were you singing?" Harry asked, utterly confused.

"'Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us –"

"That's not what you were singing," Harry said.

Draco opened his mouth to ask if Harry was ok, but Dumbledore was sending them off to bed and everyone was moving at once.

..

Draco followed the rest of the Gryffindors to the common room. He didn't really pay attention to anything else. He was talking to Pansy and Blaise.

"Pansy, what happened in there?" He asked.

"I don't really know. It was like I was in a trance. You're a really good singer, Draco."

"It's in his blood. Literally. Veelas are kinda like sirens. They distract people with their wonderful singing. It's my guess that this is the first time you've ever sung, right?" Blaise asked.

"Well, yeah. It was really weird. It was a completely different me taking over. I mean, I'm sure it was just my Veela blood, but it was really nice. I gave in to myself. Part of me wanted to sing its heart out and the other part of me didn't want to sing in public, but the former side, the Veela side, won out in the end," Draco said.

He tried to explain the feeling that came over him when he starting singing. It was like he was destined to sing and once he started, there was no way he was stopping until the song ended. A part of his soul had opened to allow the song to pour from his mouth. Draco knew what had happened, but he wasn't quite sure what Harry had been talking about earlier.

"Was I singing the Hogwarts song?" He asked off-handedly.

"Yeah, why?" Pansy asked. Draco shrugged.

"No reason."

They had reached a portrait of a fat lady wearing a pink silk dress. Someone near the front said the password (Caput Draconis) and the portrait swung forward to reveal a hole in the wall, which they all climbed through. They walked in to the common room which was large and warm. A fire brewed in the corner with soft armchairs surrounding it. Tables, rugs, and random chairs littered the floor, giving off the impression of a living room. The Prefect turned to the group of first years.

"Your things are already up in your dormitories. Girls through this door," He pointed to a door on his left, "And boys through the other," he motioned to a door on his right.

Draco, Blaise, Harry, Dean, and two other boys walked through the door on their left while Pansy, Hermione, and other girls walked through the door to their right. The boys walked up a spiral staircase and finally found their beds in one of the rooms at the very top. Draco collapsed on one of the four-poster beds with his trunk at the foot of it. He was so tired, he fell asleep almost immediately.

His dreams mostly consisted of his father. Draco pictured the living room where his father had been blown over from the ball of energy he threw at him. Draco edged forward slowly. Suddenly, Lucius stood up and sneered at his son.

"Gryffindor? No son of mine is in Gryffindor," He said.

Draco turned around and ran across the water to Hogwarts. He ran to the Gryffindor common room. He ran up to the boys' dormitory and stood at the edge of Harry Potter's bed. Harry's eyes opened and Draco took his hand, leading him to the Quidditch pitch. Then Harry smiled and ran to a tower. Draco looked up at Harry in the tower and beckoned for him to jump.

"Just jump. I'll catch you," His voice was slippery wet and sweet as honey.

Harry was laughing. Draco reached for him. He didn't feel good. He needed Harry to jump down.

"Harry, you have to trust me. Just jump!"

Draco woke up, sweating and shaking. He glanced over at Harry, who was muttering, tossing, and turning in his sleep. Draco yawned, turned over, and fell asleep.

* * *

A/N: WOAH!! Ok, that was really weird. It had like a touch of Final Destination without all the death thrown in. Well, I had to make sure Harry got into Gryffindor, didn't I? Anyway, I'm sure it'll be ok, though this chapter was very confusing and quite evil if I do say so myself. Seemed a little shorter than the others for some reason. oh well. See you next chappie, mkay?


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

A/N: I've noticed that Draco, Pansy, and Blaise are kinda like Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Only, Blaise is the super genius and Pansy just doesn't care. And this one's super crazy. Pay attention!! Anyway, Hope ya'll enjoy this one. On with the show!

* * *

The next morning, Draco didn't remember he had dreamed at all. In fact, when he was still slightly asleep, he didn't know for a moment where he was. Then he remembered everything and glanced over at Harry's bed. Harry was just visible under his comforter. His glasses were on the bedside table and Draco took a moment to watch him sleep. And then Blaise woke up.

"Morning," he said, yawning. Draco grunted and they went to wash up before breakfast.

They followed the general throng of people down to the Great Hall where they got their schedules as they ate. Then, he and Blaise and Pansy walked toward their first class together, Potions. Draco had been looking forward to this since he had gotten his letter for Hogwarts.

They entered the classroom with the rest of the Gryffindors and Slytherins, since they were paired up that day. Professor Snape, whom Draco had heard of often, was nowhere to be seen. Draco sat down quickly between Blaise and Pansy, who were quiet and steady like Draco. Soon enough, Snape entered the classroom with a bang. His robes billowed out impressively behind him and he glared at them all, except the Slytherins. He began with roll call, pausing on Harry's name.

"Ah yes. Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_," he said softly and moved on to the next name.

Once he was done, he graced them with a poem, it seemed, about Potions.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through the human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Most of the class was leaning forward, sitting on the edges of their seats, enthralled, as it were, by his speech. At least, that's how Draco felt. Suddenly, Snape was rearing back for an attack. He could feel it.

"Potter!" Snape said. Some students jumped, not prepared for the bark that came from the quiet teacher. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

_Draught of the Living Death, isn't it?_ Draco thought. He glanced around and found mostly blank stares moving from Snape to Harry and back again. He looked at Blaise, and mouthed it to him. Blaise gave a small nod, but continued to look at Snape. Draco turned back to look at Harry, who was panicking. Hermione sat next to him, her hand stretched up into the air.

"I don't know, sir," was the small, sad reply from Harry's bowed head. Snape said a comment meant to be heard only for Harry.

"Let's try again," Snape said, his voice carrying over to Draco's table. "Potter, where would you go to look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

_In the stomach of a goat._

Again, Harry replied, "I don't know, sir."

Hermione's hand remained in the air. Draco tried hard not to roll his eyes.

"What is the difference, Potter," Snape asked, Harry's face growing red from embarrassment, "between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Draco wished he could tell Harry the answer (it's a trick question – they're the same plant), but he wasn't near enough to him. Blaise gave Draco a warning glance and Pansy held Draco's arm. He then noticed that he had been shaking. Snape finally stopped torturing Harry, though he took away a point from Gryffindor. Draco and the rest of the Gryffindors grumbled half-heartedly. The Slytherins were completely beside themselves with happiness. _Well, at least one teacher has to like them_, Draco thought.

Snape then gave them instructions to a simple potion that cured boils. Draco set to work immediately with Pansy. Since Draco and Blaise were both fabulous with potions, it only seemed fair that Pansy got to pair with one of them while Blaise helped out another bloke (Neville, wasn't it?). Draco got into a groove. He measured to the 100th of a decimal; he crushed the snake fangs with ease, and stewed his horned slugs like he was snapping his fingers. _Potions and singing_, Draco thought. _Two things I'm dreadfully good at just happen to be complete opposite?_ Finally, his potion was complete. Snape walked over and peered into Draco's cauldron. He didn't really know what he expected. Snape didn't favor anyone but Slytherin. He knew, deep down, that he had thought Snape would single him out of all the Gryffindors and sing Draco's praises for his spectacular potion brewing skills. What he received was little more than a blow to the side of his face.

"This is adequate. Perhaps next time you'll remember to stir with long, graceful strokes, hmm?" Snape said.

Draco gave one last stir and the potion turned a deep scarlet, which it was supposed to be. Snape stiffened, and then looked up to see who he was insulting.

"Mr. Malfoy. How – ah – surprising to see you amid such a lower class than you. I see the Sorting Hat has made yet another grave mistake," He said before floating over to Blaise and Neville's potion, which was also a deep scarlet, though it's clouds were a little lighter than Draco's. He heard Snape's voice carry over to his table.

"Definitely not what I was expecting from you, Mr. Zabini, not at all. Longbottom! Next time at least make an effort, hmm?"

The bell rang, signaling the end of the horrible class, and Draco packed his bag. He couldn't believe this. The best class in the whole school and Snape already hated him. Draco walked quickly to Transfiguration, where they all attempted to turn a match into a needle. By the end of class, only Blaise and Hermione had managed it. Draco admired Blaise's handiwork as they made their way to the rest of their classes.

For the next couple of weeks, things went by normally. And then something happened that Draco didn't expect.

Charms was the one class Draco had not been looking forward to. He never was really good at pronouncing difficult Latin. However, their first spell, Wingardium Leviosa, was really quite easy. He swished and flicked his wand and soon the feather they were supposed to be practicing on was rising up into the air. Hermione shot him a look of jealousy, but soon she had hers up as well, followed closely by Blaise. Harry and Ron were arguing with Hermione and Pansy was giving Draco a glare.

"I can't believe you did it. Honestly. I thought you said potions was your best subject!" She complained on their way to the Quidditch Pitch. The day earlier they had noticed a flyer in the common room saying they would be learning to fly. Draco was extremely eager. Sure, he had flown a bit at home, but not really.

They were having the class with the Slytherins. As they got to a place where brooms had been placed in rows, Madam Hooch, the flying instructor, gave them the basic information.

"When I blow my whistle, I want you to kick off from the ground, hover for a moment, and then angle your broom forward a little to come back down. Three, two, one." She blew her whistle and, as a collective group, they all rose into the air. Draco looked over at Harry, who looked like he had never felt anything more amazing in his life.

As the group began their descent, Draco noticed Neville kept rising.

"Neville, lean forward!" Draco called.

He did, but apparently his broom didn't want to mind him because it kept rising steadily into the air. Madam Hooch was yelling at him to come down and Neville looked like he wouldn't like anything else in the world than to get his feet onto solid ground. Suddenly, the broom was speeding off towards the castle. The air was tingling with anxious worry as Draco watched Neville zoom around the towers. Neville crashed into one of the cobblestone walls and fell with a _thud_. Madam Hooch rushed to help him up.

"Looks like a sprain," she said as he cradled his wrist and whimpered.

Draco, the Gryffindors, and the sneering Slytherins watched Neville get escorted to the Hospital Wing. Madam Hooch yelled a warning to the class about getting on their brooms again, but the accident made most of the class edge away from the broomsticks uneasily. Harry was whispering worriedly with Hermione and the Weasley. Draco looked over at them and noticed said Weasley watching him as well. He hastily walked over to Blaise and Pansy. They lay down on the grass, talking amongst themselves. Then, Draco heard something. It was a taunt.

"Oi! Mudblood! Wasn't that your boyfriend? Shouldn't you go see if he's ok?" It was a Slytherin, flanked on both sides by Crabbe and Goyle.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but Harry turned to the group of Slytherins. Draco stiffened, transfixed.

"Leave her alone," he said.

Draco paid close attention, not noticing Blaise and Pansy continuing a conversation behind him. He looked over at the Slytherin boy taunting Harry. He looked so familiar…

"Oh, what is this?" The boy picked something up off the ground. Draco remembered Neville showing them the small, glass ball during breakfast.

"It's a Rememberall. My gran sent it to me because I'm always forgetting things. If the smoke inside of it turns red, that means that …" Here, Neville had looked down at the Rememberall with confusion, because the smoke inside had turned red.

"It means you've forgotten something. I just can't remember what it is I've forgotten…"

Draco watched the Slytherin boy (_who is he? _Draco wondered) hold the ball up to the sun. Harry clenched his fist.

"Give it here," Harry said, holding out a hand.

The boy snorted and jumped onto his broom. He rose into the air like a pro. Harry grabbed his broom. Hermione tried to stop him, but soon he was in the air. Draco stood quickly, watching Harry. Why did this seem like de ja vu?

"Give it here I said!" Harry called.

The boy looked stunned that Harry was such a natural on a broom. Suddenly his plan didn't seem so thought-out. The boy tried to sneer at Harry, and Harry charged him. The boy darted out of the way just in time. He was getting worried. He managed to place a fixed, indifferent smirk on his face.

"If you want it, go get it," the boy said and chucked it behind him.

Harry angled his broom toward the falling ball. Draco watched from the ground, as if in slow motion, as Harry followed the ball's descent to the ground. He was racing the ball to the ground. The air around Draco shimmered with worry. Blaise was grabbing Draco's arm. Why? But Draco couldn't concentrate because Harry had caught the ball and jumped off his broom gracefully. Draco breathed out a sigh of relief. Then –

"Potter!"

McGonagall was rushing toward Harry, her face creased with astonishment.

"Never, in all my years! Come with me, Potter."

She took Harry away. Draco watched mutely as Harry disappeared into the castle. As soon as he was gone, Blaise whipped him around to face him and Pansy.

"Draco, are you ok?" Blaise asked.

Draco gave him a cursory look.

"Yes, I'm fine I just…" He looked over to the Slytherin boy, who was sniggering with his friends. Before he knew what he was doing, he was walking over to the boy. He stood next to him, silently. He waited, not saying a word, for the boy to feel him there. Finally, he looked up at Draco.

"What?" He asked, smirking.

"Who are you?" Draco asked.

The boy looked Draco over.

"Who are _you_?" He asked.

A muscle in Draco's jaw twitched.

"Draco Malfoy," He said.

The boy hesitated before even thinking about answering.

"Alright, Draco Malfoy. I'll tell you who I am. Meet me in the trophy room tonight at midnight," he said.

"No way. Do you honestly think I'm that stupid?"

"What do you mean?" The boy asked innocently.

"8 o' clock. Trophy room." Draco said before returning to Blaise and Pansy.

"Who was that?" Pansy asked, looking the boy over approvingly.

"I don't know," he replied honestly.

..

7:55, Draco was sitting in the trophy room. He knew he was allowed to be there at that time, but he still kept a lookout for Filch, the grumpy caretaker, or Mrs. Norris, his scrawny, scruffy, evil little cat. Put one toe out of line in front of that cat and she would scamper off to get Filch, who would turn up wheezing moments later.

Draco sighed and checked the time again. 7:58. He still had a few minutes. He had a feeling this mystery boy would turn up around 8:30, just to make Draco mad. Draco rolled his eyes. Slytherins. Draco recounted the events of that day, turning over everything that had happened and its outcome. He had gotten a load of homework in Transfiguration and hardly anything in Charms. He already had an essay from Snape that was due in a week. Draco sighed, remembering the Potions class that day. He still couldn't figure out what Snape's feelings toward Draco were. He approved of Draco's exceptional potion-making skills, though he would never admit liking a Gryffindor's work. He knew Lucius Malfoy well, so he must like him a little bit. And yet, Draco was sure that being placed in Gryffindor had made any hopes of being on Snape's good side moot.

Draco didn't realize how introverted he was behaving until he heard a voice behind him.

"Malfoy."

Draco turned and saw the Slytherin boy there. Draco invited him to sit next to him on the bench, but the boy merely sneered and pulled up a chair at least ten feet from him.

"So, what do you want again, Malfoy?" The boy asked, examining his nails.

Draco had the feeling that this boy thought himself superior to everyone.

"Who are you?" He asked, not really caring about the boy's super ego.

"Who do you think I am?" He asked, still not looking at Draco. _This is getting ridiculous,_ Draco thought.

"I don't know. If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you, now would I?" Draco asked, exasperated. The boy looked up, a slim eyebrow raised gracefully.

"I'm you," he said easily. Draco smirked.

"Right, how silly of me. Of course you're me!" Draco started. The boy put up a hand to stop him.

"No, really. I'm you."

"Explain."

"I'm kind of like an alter-ego. I'm what you would be if Lucius hadn't made the mistakes he had. I usually live on a different plane of existence than you, but here I am."

"Why don't you look like me?" Draco asked.

"Because I actually don't have Veela blood in me at all. He married Bellatrix in my world. I go to Hogwarts in my world and Potter and I are not friends," the boy said.

"What's your name?"

"Avaric Black."

"Why not Malfoy. You did say Lucius was your father."

"No I didn't. I said he married Bella. She's my mother. Lucius is not my father. Though he's a better substitute."

Draco tilted his head, confused.

"Then who's your father? Your biological father?"

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. In this world he is The Dark Lord, Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, The Heir of Slytherin, and You-Know-Who."

Draco let his jaw drop.

"What do you mean, 'in this world'? He's not a Lord Voldemort in your world?"

The boy, Avaric, gave Draco a signature sneer.

"Obviously not. He's just a normal bloke. Rather handsome. Oh he had some great ideas about cleaning and pruning the wizarding world, but he didn't put them to action. The only thing he ever did was run out on my mom once he got wind that she was pregnant."

Avaric seemed so calm recounting the fact that his father left his mother because she was pregnant with him. It was a sobering thought. Draco's mind was reeling.

"Then why are you here?" He asked.

"Search me," Avaric said, looking bored.

"So, your job is to basically do everything I would have done if I was more like you and less like the me that I am now?" Even the sentence made Draco's head spin.

"It's not really a job. It's just what I'm doing. I'm hoping one day I'll go back to my home."

"So, who's in your place? Shouldn't I be there? Shouldn't we have switched places?" Draco asked.

He wanted information so badly. He craved it. Everything he knew about his life was backwards. He just wanted to be Draco without his alter-ego running around. True, no one else knew about this, but still. Apparently, Avaric was thinking along the same lines.

"When did you get here?" Draco asked.

"Last night. I woke up here and everyone seemed to have a memory charm or something because they all remember me getting sorted."

Draco stood and walked over to the door.

"I'm really sorry you're here. I can see you really don't need me. Just go one doing what you're doing I guess," Draco said and turned to leave.

"Draco?"

He turned to look back at Avaric and he really could see himself in this boy, this Bellatrix-Voldemort version of him.

"Don't tell a soul," Avaric said. Draco had the feeling he was about to say something else and changed his mind. Nonetheless, Draco gave a small nod and left the room.

..

As Draco walked into the Gryffindor common room, he didn't notice a thing around him. He didn't know what to think about this Avaric person walking around. He walked up to his dormitory and lay down. He didn't know what time it was and he didn't care. He needed to sleep; it would help him process the information just given to him. He didn't notice that Harry came into the room and lay down with a happy sigh. He didn't know that Harry had just been made the youngest Seeker in a century for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He didn't know that the Weasley was suspicious of Draco. He didn't know that Blaise had a secret from everyone. He didn't know that Dean Thomas was so jealous of Harry he felt like he was going to burst. He didn't know that Seamus was worried about his parents. He didn't know Neville had come back from the Hospital Wing. And, frankly, he didn't care. He heard the whispers of a few secrets leaking out to him in the night, but he tuned them out. He wasn't thinking about anyone else for once in his life. For this one time, he was thinking about himself. He was thinking that maybe he had screwed everything up by getting sorted into Gryffindor…

..

The next day, Draco woke up thinking about owls and he remembered that he hadn't written his mother once! He scrambled out of bed and hurried to write a letter to her, explaining everything that had happened since he got there (leaving out Avaric – that would be too confusing). He sent his eagle owl, Imperialis, with the letter and lay back down in bed. He sighed and rolled over, expecting to see everyone asleep beside him.

He stopped, shocked at what he saw. He was in a different bed in a different dormitory in a different House. He didn't know how he had missed it! Blaise Zabini lay on the bed across from him, Crabbe and Goyle in two side by side on Draco's left and Theodore Nott on his right. Draco sat up quickly, hitting his head on the curtain rack surrounding the bed. Rubbing his forehead he climbed out of bed and ran upstairs to the common room was. He looked around and saw green and silver surrounding the walls. Excitement, confusion, worry, and curiosity buzzed in the room around him. Draco sat down on a couch slowly. He sat gaping at the large tapestry of a serpent on the wall in front of him. _Well. This is one way to start a morning, _he thought bitterly.

* * *

A/N: OMG!! Did NOT expect that to happen! Man, I really wanted to get the Veela thing going, too! But I had to get Harry to be a Seeker. The idea of an alter-ego just came to me as I was playing Solitaire (I'd like to thank a forum for the advice… though which one it was I'm not absolutely sure…) And the name, Avaric, came from Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West. Great book. I recommend it if you've never read it. Anyway! The tenth chapter is being written as we speak. I'm liking this idea of switching worlds. (Did you like the Voldemort-Bellatrix love child? I did!! I was going to make him a real person in Draco's original world, but… I didn't) Ugh! This story is really running away from me!!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A/N: Hello all! I'm hoping on putting everything right because in my attempt to answer unasked questions, I managed to create more questions. I'm sorry about that. I really didn't want him to go into an alternate reality. I liked that he was in Gryffindor with Harry. It made things easier. Then Avaric showed up… Ugh! This is getting really sticky. I hope it doesn't blow up in my face. I'm really sorry, and I'm trying to fix it… On with the show?

Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table between Crabbe and Goyle, staring at Harry Potter across the Hall. Pansy was sitting across from Draco, telling him something. Most likely juicy gossip as he kept hearing names and "so she said" and "so then he". Blaise was watching Draco avoid his food. Draco knew he couldn't be in the world that Avaric had come from since Bellatrix was in Azkaban and Voldemort was still evil. Draco heard the Bloody Baron whisk past behind him, muttering something about the woods. Draco didn't pay attention.

"Draco, are you paying attention to me?" Pansy asked with a little pout.

"No. Who are those people sitting next to Ha – Potter?" Draco asked, adding a disgusted sneer for good measure. When he had smiled at Blaise earlier that day, they had asked if he had been Confunded. He made sure to copy what he remembered of Avaric's moves after that.

"Who are –? Why, that's the Mudblood, Granger, and the blood-traitor, Weasley," Pansy replied impatiently, "Anyway –"

"I know their blood status and last names, Pansy. I mean who are they?" Draco asked in a drawl. He found that impersonating people was quite a rush.

"Well," Pansy said, recovering from Draco's offense and thrilled to relay gossip and have him pay her attention, "they say that Granger – Hermione I think it is – is some kind of super-genius. Ravenclaws adore and envy her knowledge. She gets top marks in everything, though she's a little slow on the draw." Draco took this to mean she wasn't very good at Defense against the Dark Arts. "The Weasley – Ronald or Ron – is a normal kid. No good at lessons, however," she finished with a triumphant sneer.

"We'd better go. I know Professor Snape favors us and all, but I think he'd be a bit peeved if we were late," Theo stated, standing up and stretching.

The rest of them stood and walked out of the Great Hall. As Draco turned to go down to the dungeons, the rest of them turned to climb the stairs. Draco paused, wondering what was going on.

"Come on, Draco! We don't want to be late!" Pansy called back to him. He sighed and hurried to catch up. He'd go along with their little game.

As they climbed more and more stairs, turning randomly and running down corridors, Draco wondered if they knew where they were going. Suddenly, they walked into a classroom. Draco hesitated outside the door, but entered a second before the bell rang. Snape was at the front of the class perusing a black book and hadn't noticed him. Draco sat down quickly next to Blaise.

"Today you're going to be making a very simple potion that I think at least some of you will be able to make," Snape started, glaring around at the Gryffindors. The Slytherins sniggered, elbowing each other.

"The instructions are on the board," Snape said, pointing his wand to the blackboard at the front of the class and instructions appeared out of nowhere, "the ingredients are, of course, in the cupboard."

Draco jumped up to gather his ingredients. It was simple potion that made hair shrink or grow to a person's desired length. As Draco was slicing and dicing and measuring and stirring, he wondered if the potions they were making were for Snape himself. This made Draco smile and nearly laugh out loud. Draco finished before the rest of the class and watched everyone else struggle amusedly. He loved potions. Suddenly, Snape was right in front of him. Draco started, but he was looking at Draco's potion.

"This is perfect," Snape declared. Before Draco could say a word, the bell rang and the class was in a flurry. Draco turned back to Snape, but he was back at the front of his desk, reading. Draco, along with the rest of the class, gave a sample of his potion to Snape and left.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts next," Blaise said and they were off. Draco entered the classroom, which was in a different spot of course, and sat down. That day they were going to be learning something blah blah blah. Draco stopped paying attention. It was Quirrell, anyway, and all he did was stutter through his lectures.

"Draco M-Malfoy!" Professor Stutter-Squeak said. Draco smiled despite himself at the name. Now he was chuckling.

"What is s-s-so funny?" The Professor asked and Draco cracked up again. He couldn't control it. Finally Blaise grabbed Draco and shook him.

"Get a hold of yourself, mate!" And Draco did. He was quite solemn for the rest of the class. Once it was over, his group ran to Charms, which happened to be in the dungeons.

In Charms, they were going to be levitating bricks. Draco grinned. _Bricks?_ He wondered. It was like Professor Flitwick actually trusted the Slytherins! Before he could even raise his wand, he was suddenly in a different classroom. He lowered his wand and listened to McGonagall.

"… needle into a matchstick like so," and she changed her needle into a matchstick.

Draco raised his wand and uttered the incantation and the needle turned into a plant. Draco glanced up to see if anyone else had made the same mistake, but he was in the greenhouse in Herbology. They were supposed to be potting some strange, unpleasant plant that would probably spurt some powder at them if they did it wrong. Draco grabbed a fistful of leaves and was about to pull when he was suddenly sitting in the Slytherin common room, picking up a pillow.

"Wha-?" Draco threw the pillow and sighed. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. Maybe, this was all just a –

And as soon as Draco thought it, we awoke. He looked around. _It was just a dream! _Draco chuckled to himself. He was back in the Gryffindor common room. He wasn't in an alter-universe. There probably wasn't even an Avaric. Sure enough, when Draco asked Blaise later that day about the Slytherin student, Blaise gave a blank look. Draco grinned happily. The plate in front of him (for they were down in the Great Hall enjoying a delicious breakfast) seemed to rattle a little in Draco's relief and happiness. And yet…

Though Draco was truly back in the place he belonged and knew it had all been a figment of his imagination, he realized that this seemed to happen a lot to him. He wondered if it was a Veela trait. He wanted to know why his mind seemed to be millions of universes away at times. Sometimes he opened his mouth suddenly to ask Pansy, Blaise, even Hermione, but he would stop himself. No one would believe him. One day, however, in the middle of Transfiguration, he knew what he wanted to do. He had to talk to Dumbledore. The man was, as they said, a genius. Surely he would know why these things were happening to him. Of course, then he would have to tell Dumbledore the truth, the whole truth, even the part about him being a Veela. As Draco looked up at Pansy trying to transform a rat into a goblet and Blaise sitting back, looking accomplishedly at his own golden goblet, Draco knew he had to do it.

During lunch, while the rest of his Gryffindor friends were heading toward the Great Hall to enjoy a midday snack, Draco went straight for Dumbledore's office. Once he reached the gargoyle sitting outside the entrance, however, he realized how silly his plan seemed. First of all, he couldn't even get in. Secondly, it – well, it really didn't matter anyway because he couldn't get in. He looked around desperately, hoping to see a sign somewhere, perhaps. And there – there! – was Professor McGonagall striding toward Dumbledore's office.

"Professor McGonagall!" Draco exclaimed. She looked up from a scroll she was reading from to see him standing quite alone outside the Headmaster's office.

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore," He said calmly, recovering quickly. McGonagall stood still for a moment.

"Very well, Malfoy. But just this once," she said and let him walk into the spiral, moving staircase after her. As they reached the door that led to his room, Draco felt rather silly again. What was he going to say to him, that is, if he let him talk in the first place?

"Come in!" Said a cheery voice after McGonagall rapped smartly on the door three times. McGonagall entered with Draco in tow.

"Professor, I have that letter from the Minister. It came by owl during lunch." She handed him a letter and walked out, giving Draco a small, uncharacteristic smile before she disappeared. Dumbledore was looking at the letter and did not seem to have noticed Draco looking rather uncomfortable in his doorway. Suddenly, he looked up. The tiny frown in his features melted away at the sight of him and he gestured to a chair in front of his desk.

"Draco Malfoy! What a lovely surprise. To what do I owe this great pleasure?" He asked kindly, his eyes sparkling. Draco sat down and gave Dumbledore a small cough.

"Well, you see, sir, I h-have a question to, erm, well, ask you." Draco stuttered. Dumbledore tilted his head to the right, which Draco assumed to mean for him to continue.

"Well, sir, the truth is that I have Veela blood in me," Draco paused, looking at Dumbledore for his reaction, which was none but simple, child-like curiosity.

"And, erm, a few times this year I have sort of glimpsed the future and entered an alternate reality. I was wondering what you thought about this. I didn't know if it had anything to do with my unusual blood type or something else," Draco said in a rush. Dumbledore was glancing at Draco over the top of his hands, which were placed in a teepee position.

"That is quite peculiar…" Dumbledore reasoned. Draco nodded, glad he understood the extremity of the situation. Dumbledore smiled.

"I don't think, however, that you have anything to worry about. It could have something to do with your blood, or it could be something more. You say you've seen the future? I don't doubt that fact. It is quite possible that you have seen the future. You also claim to have entered an alternate universe? This is, of course, not quite as plausible. I think, though, of course, what I think is not set in stone as the truth, that what you see as an alternate universe is really what you wish and dream to be. Perhaps in this alternate reality, Voldemort never rose to power. Perhaps your parents are quite happy and you are, perhaps, not an outsider as your – ah – unusual blood has made you. I think that –"

"What do you mean by that?" Draco cut across him. Dumbledore's smile did not falter in the slightest, even as Draco's tone had an edge to it.

"What had I meant by what?"

Draco stood slowly.

"My parents are very happy. Whoever told you otherwise are lying," he said and turned to leave.

"Were they?" Dumbledore asked quietly.

Draco felt anger building up inside of him. The walls around him began to shake and quiver with Draco's fury. Dumbledore did not seem to notice, but the Headmasters and Headmistresses of old were becoming influenced by Draco's anger. They were shouting and jeering at Dumbledore, at each other, at anything. Things on the Headmaster's desk began to break, but Draco didn't care. Books fell from the shelves around him and the chandelier above clanked and chimed.

"Yes. My parents love each other. They love me. What do you know?" Draco asked with a sneer and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

..

Draco was fuming on his way to the Great Hall, where the rest of his classmates sat wondering where he was. Walls around him were pulsing with rage and wandering students walked warily. Portraits on the walls began to grumble as Draco passed. He walked into the Great Hall and, as he walked toward the Gryffindor table, the once bright blue sky suddenly became overcast. Draco did not notice, but when the enchanted ceiling suddenly gave a booming crack of thunder and long, jagged streaks of lightning, people began to notice. People walking in from the grounds glanced at the ceiling in confusion while other students took it for a real weather report and began to mumble about their lousy luck.

Draco sat down next to Blaise, who looked up at him over the Daily Prophet.

"You alright, mate?" He asked.

"Just peachy." He replied in a low grumble.

Blaise and Pansy kept close to Draco to ward off stupid people that tried to talk to him. They led him to the Gryffindor common room and sat him down in front of the fire. They didn't say a single word to him, figuring he'd come to them when he wanted to talk. They just sat next to him in the comfy armchairs, waiting patiently. They didn't have to wait long.

"What does he know? Everyone's raving that he's the smartest wizard there ever was!" Draco was ranting to no one in particular, "But what does he know?" He repeated.

Blaise looked over at Pansy before talking.

"Who are we talking about here?" Blaise asked in his soft, deep, understanding voice.

"The beloved Dumbledore!" Draco exploded, scaring some girls sitting near. They stood and walked away, chattering.

"What about him?" Pansy asked, placing a small hand on Draco's shoulder. She pulled back quickly, though not because of Draco's death glare he sent her way. His skin was like fire!

"Draco, are you ok?" Pansy asked.

Draco looked up at her. The fire grew larger. The walls were quivering slightly. He was trying his hardest to keep his emotions to himself and not to the room around him, but it was making him even angrier to keep it all inside. It wasn't natural. He was meant to let his emotions be known.

"No, I'm bloody well not 'ok', ok?" Draco snarled.

Pansy jumped back. She looked about to retort, but Blaise took her by her arm and led her away. They talked in fervid whispers; Pansy kept glancing back at Draco. Something on the mantle of the fireplace fell and shattered. The chair beneath him was positively vibrating in his fury. He knew somewhere, in the back of his mind, perhaps, that he was blowing all of this out of proportion. Somewhere back there he knew that he needn't be quite so mad at Dumbledore.

But then Blaise was back and Pansy was walking away. Draco didn't like that. What kind of friend did she call herself? Leaving him here in this state of distress! Draco could hear the thoughts around him. Some people were whispering affections about the person near to them or far away. Some were worried about tests. Some had put their friend in detention for something they themselves had done.

Draco focused on the figure in front of him, Blaise. Draco's heart gave a tug that Blaise was there. And then, suddenly, someone entered the room. Draco's head whipped up to see the dynamic trio – Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Draco focused his attention on Hermione's thoughts, which blocked out everybody else's. She was thinking about facts, quizzes, tests, and spells. But deep down she was worried. She really marveled how she had gotten so lucky. She still couldn't believe that she was there, at Hogwarts. But, even deeper down, she worried about keeping Harry and Ron as her friends. She was worried they'd look at her suddenly one day and realize they were better off without her. And then she would be truly alone.

Draco pried his mind off of Hermione's and turned his attention to Weasley. He was jealous – jealous of everyone. He looked at Harry's scar and envy clouded his thoughts. He saw a couple of sixth years snogging in the corner and was jealous. He looked at Hermione and thought about how better she was than him at everything. He desired her knowledge. He looked around the room with a seemingly cheerful gaze, but he was really thinking about how he wanted what everyone in the room had. He glanced up and saw Draco and he felt a hatred so deep it only just paralleled what Voldemort must feel for Harry. Draco was surprised that Ron hated him so much and longed to wonder the reason. He set a determined jaw and reached inside Ron. He saw it – there! Not only was Ron jealous of Draco being an only child with loving parents that never ignored him, he also was better friends with Harry than himself. Draco backed up out of Ron's mind. He nearly laughed out loud at the absurd thoughts racing through his fellow Gryffindor's mind. He had half a mind to confide in Ron just how horrible his father really was, but thought better of it.

He looked away from Ron, who was now sitting down to a game of wizard's chess with Seamus, and concentrated on Harry's thoughts. It had just occurred to him that he had probably never focused on Harry' mind. He looked at Harry intently and heard – nothing. Draco stood and looked around. Blaise was watching Draco. Draco gave a small, apologetic, appreciative smile and walked toward Harry. As he grew nearer, he still couldn't hear a thing! He plopped down next to The Boy Who Lived and stared at him. He was deeply immersed in a book about Quidditch. Draco wondered if Harry was still a seeker even though there was no Avaric. Hermione sat across from him, muttering incantations under her breath at the quill in front of her. Draco didn't focus on her. He probed Harry's mind, searching for his deepest thoughts. It usually didn't this much effort! Harry suddenly looked up at him and smiled warmly.

"Hey, Draco!" Harry said.

He didn't seem to notice that Draco was trying very hard to read his thoughts. He couldn't do it. He realized he was staring, appalled, at Harry and he quickly closed his jaw.

"Hiya Harry," Draco replied. Harry went back to his book presently.

Draco stood and walked back to Blaise, who was staring fixedly into the roaring fire, which had lowered since Draco's anger had receded. Draco sat down in the armchair and stared at the fire as well. Neither of them spoke for a long while. Time ran by, not stopping to see Draco or Blaise. Draco wet his lips to speak, but Blaise beat him.

"I'm really sorry, Draco. I knew this was going to happen," Blaise said. Draco started.

"What? You knew what was going to happen?" Draco wondered how Blaise knew he couldn't read Harry's mind and was curious to how Blaise fit in to that.

"I knew you were going to be slipping in and out of time and space. It's – well, it's all my fault."

Draco could only gape at Blaise.

"What are you talking about?" Draco asked quickly, a slight edge to his voice.

"It's a secret of mine. I knew, as soon as you told us on the train –"

Draco delved into Blaise's mind. He saw rather than heard Blaise's secret.

"I thought it was a myth!" Draco whispered. Blaise sighed.

"Yeah, well, it's not. It's as real as your Veela blood." Blaise said dejectedly. Draco smiled suddenly.

"Well, this explains quite a bit!" Draco said.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that," Blaise said, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Wow, Blaise! That's really cool!" Draco exclaimed.

"Yeah, it kinda is. But listen, you have to keep this a secret. Only you and Pansy can know," Blaise said. Draco let an eyebrow rise faintly.

"People will find out." He pointed out. Blaise sighed.

"I hope –"

But Draco was pulling Blaise to his feet and hugging him. Blaise stood stiffly for a moment then patted Draco's back. Draco pulled away and smiled dazzlingly at him.

"You'd better watch out with those smiles, Draco. You haven't quite reached the age where you make the girls go silly when they see you, but your smiles are a kind of magic in it of themselves," Blaise said, guiding Draco back out of the common room. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Let's get to class."

..

Harry watched Blaise and Draco leave and smiled. He wondered why Draco had come over to just say hi. Hermione was engrossed in her book and Harry decided not to bother her. She usually flew off the handle when anyone interrupted her when she was reading. Harry looked around the common room and saw Ron playing a game of Wizard's chess with Seamus. Dean was giving Seamus support and encouragement. As Harry approached, Ron looked up at Seamus, grinning wickedly.

"Check mate!" He crowed. Harry smiled.

"Hey, Ron. What's up?" He asked.

"Not much, Harry. What's up with you?" Ron asked, putting his chess pieces away.

"Not much." Harry replied. They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Harry glanced at his watch.

"We'd better get going. Don't want to be late for Potions," Harry said.

"Yes, actually, I really do." Ron said, but he stood up anyway. Harry and Ron walked over to Hermione. At first they hesitated.

"Erm, come on Hermione. Double Potions with Slytherin!" Harry said excitedly. Hermione closed her book with a bang. She picked up her quill and put if back in her bag. She straightened up and looked at Harry.

"Ok, I'll walk with you. But if you say one more thing about Draco Malfoy I swear I'll hex you," Hermione warned. Harry raised a hand.

"Wizard's Honour?" He asked. Ron roared with laughter and when they left the common room, Ron was still chuckling.

Harry didn't find it hard to not talk about Draco. Not really, anyway. It's not like he was obsessed with him. Not at all! He just found the fellow Gryffindor very interesting. For instance, how had he known the Sorting Hat was going to offer Harry a place in Slytherin? And why, whenever he was around Draco, did he suddenly feel calm and happy? Nothing really made any sense. Even as Draco had breezed by looking like everything in the world that could ever go wrong just had, Harry felt better. Though Harry mused about these things often and they interested him greatly, his friends were starting to hate him for it. He knew it made them angry when he said Draco's name, but it felt nice to say. It rolled off the tongue and floated gently onto one's ears. Harry smiled and entered Potions, ready for anything.

..

Narcissa Malfoy sat down gently at the dining room table. She sighed and tried not to gaze out the window. As she had not gotten a letter from Draco yet, she figured it was time to mail him some love and sweets to let him know she was there. She just hoped he was ok.

For the time being, the Malfoy Manor was looking bleaker as the days went by. He had been gone for two months already and the house was looking quite sad. As if that wasn't enough, Lucius had taken to pacing around his library more often than not. During the day, he could be heard by the creaking of the floorboards. Narcissa had asked him when he was going to fix it, but he only gave her a cursory sneer and went back to pacing. Narcissa was worried that Draco's wind act had somehow addled Lucius' mind. However, Lucius knew the truth.

The last time he had gone over to Bella's house, she had slammed the door in his face. He kept sending her owls, to which she would send her usual reply "Piss off" with return owl. He had even tried to Floo directly into her house, which had been the biggest mistake of all. He was lucky he had gotten away with only one Cruciatus Curse. He still didn't know what had made her hate him so. He thought they had something. He knew he had been using her to get away from his wife and his terror of a child, but he had thought she had found comfort in his company.

He remembered one time, as they were lying down about to fall asleep, he had looked over at her and asked her if she missed him as much as he did.

"Do you miss him, Bella? Do you miss The Dark Lord as much as I do?" He had asked. She had then rolled over to look him straight in the eye.

"No, Lucius. I miss him more. Much, much more," She said with her voice full of passion and pain. Lucius had pulled her close and seemed unable to grasp that someone suffered worse than him.

Lucius closed his eyes at the memory. That had seemed so close in that moment. They shared each other's pain, though Lucius had accepted that hers was deeper. He sighed and continued to pace in his study. It had become his place to find comfort. Narcissa was not allowed in this room, so he stayed there with only his memories to placate him. He wondered just when he had stopped loving Narcissa. He supposed it had been when the Dark Lord was rising to power. She had never understood why he loved the Dark Lord so much. She could never understand. He saw himself in Voldemort. He saw protection in him. He saw his thoughts being put to actions by a wave of Voldemort's hand. He saw what the world could be with Voldemort's eyes. He saw what he wanted to see, and it wasn't Narcissa. Nor was it Draco.

..

Somewhere nearby, but far enough to be considered a hike to get to, Bellatrix sat in her room. She was glaring at the letters sent by Lucius. She sent curse after curse at them. She flew into a rage, screaming profanities at the man. When she saw that the papers were now a smoking pile of ash, she sat down on her bed, her heart racing, her eyes wild. She looked down at her faded, but still slightly visible Dark Mark. She stroked it lovingly and cried. She did not cry out Lucius' name. Instead, she repeated "My Lord. My _Lord. _My Lord! My Lord…"

In all the time that had passed, she still could not, and would not, accept that the Dark Lord was gone. She barked a laugh as she thought of the words Lucius had once asked her. _"Do you miss The Dark Lord as much as I do?"_ Her laughter turned to anguished sobs. No one in the whole wide world could possibly miss the Dark Lord, her Lord, as much as she did. She belonged to him. She was his. She had long ago accepted the fact that he did not love. But it did not stop her from loving him with all her heart. Lord Voldemort. His name made Bella break out into fresh tears.

At first, it had been his power that attracted her. Then, his passion for what he believed in reeled her in even further. And, in the end, it was his attention and high stature he had given her that had made her heart burst with love for him. She knew making love to him would only make it worse, but it could not stop her. He was wild, handsome, passionate, and fiery. But other times he was gentle, silky smooth, and softer than the wind whispering through the trees. She knew for him it meant only lust, but somewhere in the back of her mind and bottom of her heart, she knew she wished he would feel for her what she felt for him. But even now as she wallowed in his death, still wearing mourning threads, she knew that he had never felt a thing for her. Not a thing.

A/N: Aha! It has been steered away from the – ah – soap opera plot. Now we are a little closer to figuring out what Blaise's secret is. OoOoO!! Did it make you mad that Draco knew, but didn't tell you? I knew it would. And for that, I'm sorry. But it'll keep you interested, which is what I'm aiming for. Also, I don't really have a clue of how long Draco has been in Hogwarts! He keeps going in and out of time and space, so I just made it a few months, so Christmas break is coming up. Excitement!! Ok, see you next chapter! Peace!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A/N: I know you have been waiting for this for a while, but I went away for the summer, leaving my story behind (the horrors!!!) and when I got back school was starting and it got a little stressful. First week of school and there's already drama? Honestly.

Some of you might be wondering when I'm going to get the plot of the Harry/Draco veela/mate thing going. I guess you're going to have to be patient because I rather like the ones where it takes them most of the story to realize what they feel for each other. It could be this chapter; it could be three sequels from now! I just don't know. Besides – they're only 11 years old. It's a little young, don't you think? That's why I had Draco only see the chapter marked "Mates" in the Veela book he was reading. Too young, much too young.

Moving on, I rather like having Draco realize that Lucius is a scumbag. But I have to admit, I really don't know how the scumbag-Dumbledore will sit…

I'm planning on following at least a little bit of canon in that there will be a sorcerer's stone and all that jazz. Besides that, I'm really quite unsure when and how you, my readers, will find out Blaise's secret if you ever do at all. Mayhaps they'll keep it a secret, hmmm? (later on, when it says "thisclose" in the story, that's on purpose. Just letting you know)

Well, for this chapter's Disclaimer, I say "I do not own Harry Potter. Nor do I own Rush, the band from which the title of this story was originated" (I accidentally put pwnd tee hee) On with the show!!!

____________

The next morning, Draco woke up feeling quite refreshed. He looked next to him and was surprised to see Neville snoring gently on the bed adjacent to him. With a start, he remembered what had happened the night before.

_FLASHBACK_

"Neville, may I ask a favor of you?" Draco asked, looking Neville deep in his eye and smiling kindly. Blaise stood a ways off, leaning against a wall, pretending not to listen.

"Sure, Draco! What do you want?" Neville stammered. Draco nearly smirked.

"It's about the sleeping arrangements in the dormitory. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind switching beds with Blaise," Draco asked, holding his breath. As predicted, Neville gave him a confused look.

"But I thought you and Blaise are best mates." Neville said. Draco looked over his shoulder at Blaise and drew Neville closer.

"Blaise is still my best mate, ok? It's just that, well, sometimes Blaise mutters in his sleep. Actually, he talks. And as I'm a very light sleeper, it wakes me up, and I can't fall back asleep! I would, ordinarily, just muscle through it, but I'm beginning to get low grades in classes because of my lack of sleep," Draco said, appealing to Neville's kinder side. The hook was lowered and Draco waited for Neville to take the bait.

"You might want to switch him with Seamus, Draco. I snore at night and –"

"I've talked to Seamus, and he flatly refuses to move from Dean's side. They're better mates than Harry and Ron. Please, Neville. I beg you." Draco clasped his hands and tried to look like a victim. Something passed from Neville's eyes.

"Of course, Draco. I'll help you out. We _are_ Gryffindors." He said, smiling.

_END FLASHBACK_

Draco grinned at the memory. It had been simple enough, though Draco felt a little bad about lying to Neville, his fellow Gryffindor friend. Draco shook his head quickly. Neville was doing a good deed. If Draco continued to sleep next to Blaise, he would slip back into –

"Morning, Draco." Harry said brightly.

He went to the window and threw back the curtain. Draco watched him silently. He still had not figured out why he couldn't read Harry's mind…

"Sleep well?" He asked. Draco nodded, remembering nothing of his dreams from the previous night.

"And you?" Draco asked. Harry blushed slightly, which surprised Draco.

"Yeah, I slept alright. Guess we'd better get down to breakfast, eh? I'll wake Ron." Harry said, clearly trying to change the subject.

Draco looked over at Blaise's sleeping form and decided to leave him there. He cast a small alarm clock charm around Blaise's head and looked over at Harry, who was trying to prod Ron awake.

"Bugger off, mum." Ron mumbled. Harry laughed. It was a nice sound. Draco walked over to Harry at Ron's bedside.

"Well, he won't be getting up anytime soon. How bout we go have breakfast today? We might meet Hermione or Pansy downstairs." Draco said, nodding his head at the door.

Harry positively beamed and followed Draco out. It was really early in the morning and none of the girls seemed to be awake. So Draco and Harry walked out to the Great Hall together. They talked a little about lessons and teachers and Quidditch. Just small chat until they reached the Great Hall where breakfast laid waiting.

"So, why'd you have Neville and Blaise change beds?" Harry asked, as they had been walking in silence for a few minutes. Draco opened his mouth, prepared to tell Harry about Blaise's sleep-talking problem.

"Blaise is a Sh-" Draco stopped talking and walking, astonished. He had come thisclose to telling Harry Blaise's deepest secret!

"Blaise is a what?" Harry asked curiously. Draco swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat.

"He's a Sh – nothing! He's nothing. Let's not talk about it, ok?" Draco said in a rush and hurried past Harry to open to doors to the Great Hall for him.

They walked in silently and sat down at the Gryffindor table together. Only a few people were up at this hour, and most of them Ravenclaws. Luna caught Draco's eye and she waved happily. He waved back, smiling. As soon as her gaze had drifted from Draco's eyes, his smile dropped. As he and Harry ate in polite, eating silence, Draco contemplated what he had almost gotten himself into. It was as if he could not lie to the raven-haired boy. He had tried so hard to say that Blaise was a sleep-talker, but the other word kept trying to slip up. Maybe he felt the need to tell someone? Before he could think more on the topic, Hermione Granger plopped down next to Harry.

"Hiya Draco, Harry. Nice to see you guys awake earlier than 10 minutes before lessons start," she teased.

Draco rolled his eyes. As he had told many of them before, a Malfoy needs at least 9 hours of beauty sleep to be properly refreshed the next day. Harry, however, shrugged and agreed. Then he raised his head and looked at the staff's table. Draco's eyes followed Harry's gaze. For a moment, Draco didn't see anything wrong. Then his eyes fell onto Professor Quirrel, who looked paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes and a dark look on his face.

"What's eating him?" Harry asked Hermione, motioning to the professor.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," she said absently, yawning slightly.

"Sleep ok, 'Moine?" Harry asked.

She shook her head and Draco gave her his full attention. He probed her mind, shutting out the surrounding thoughts, to look for the reason she hadn't slept well that night. He distantly told her telling them that she had had a really strange dream. He was dimly aware of Harry responding and he searched for the dream that had plagued her night. And then, he found it. He nearly choked at what he saw. It was Hermione and Blaise, but they were much older. They were walking in what seemed an apple orchard and simply talking, holding hands and laughing. Draco pulled back, wondering many things at once. Had Blaise's powers reached to Hermione and thrown her into an alternate universe? Or was it simply a dream of her own invention? Or maybe –

"How did you sleep, Draco?" Hermione asked, interrupting his thoughts.

Before he could reply, the owl post arrived. He hadn't noticed that nearly the entire Hall had filled up with students. He looked for his mother's black owl and finally saw it among the grays and browns. He smiled and caused the bacon to dance a little with glee as a package landed on his plate. He opened it up to find sweets of all kind and a letter from his mother, sending him her love. Harry and Hermione, as well as the rest of the Gryffindors, stared longingly at his candies and he smiled a little too smugly. He checked his watch and jumped up.

"I have to take this back to the dormitory before Charms starts. If I'm late, tell Professor Flitwick!" Draco said as he rushed out of the Great Hall, nearly plowing into a group of second year girls.

~.~.~

The rest of the month passed by fairly quickly for Draco. Lessons were difficult, but not too hard. Homework was simple, tests were a cinch, and drama had managed to stay at a minimum. Draco gave Dumbledore little to no attention when he had to make a speech and never applauded its ending. October came and the weather grew chilly. Draco went to sleep each night feeling confident and never slipped into an alternate universe again. He and Blaise were with each other at all possible times. He never stopped trying to read Harry's mind, but he hadn't made any breakthroughs.

Finally, Halloween approached.

The day had gone by easily except for the tricks played by Peeves, older students, and even, he was sure of it, teachers. Everyone was awaiting the great feast that was to take place that night. He had heard rumors that Dumbledore brought in exotic creatures to accent the spooky night, but he was pretty sure those were just rumors.

The last lessons of the day, Double Potions with the Slytherins, went by much too slowly for everyone. Snape seemed impatient with their impatience and downright determined to keep them working all class long. Draco didn't mind because the potion they were making wasn't hard at all, but he heard mumbles and grumbles around the room from not only his fellow Gryffindors, but the Slytherins as well.

Finally the class ended and they all went to their dormitories to hang around until the feast was to start. Draco sat down at his favorite chair by the fire and engaged in his favorite pastime – trying to read Harry's mind. He stared intently at the back of Harry's head and still engaged in the conversation with Blaise and Pansy.

"It's getting cold," Blaise commented.

He was sitting under a blanket by the fire and still complaining. Draco rolled his eyes and smiled with the corner of his mouth. Pansy watched Draco watch Harry.

"What is it with you and Harry Potter?" She asked as she did almost everyday.

"I'm trying to hear him," Draco said, as usual.

"If you want to hear him, you have to talk to him," Pansy said, which was a new piece to their traditional conversation.

He raised an eyebrow at Pansy.

"You want me to talk to him?" He asked.

"No. _You_ want you to talk to him."

"You want me to scare him out of his wits again?" Draco tried.

The last time that he had tried just talking to Harry, the poor kid had jumped out of his skin. Draco and Blaise chuckled at the memory. Pansy shook her head and stood up.

"Fine, then. I'll talk to him."

She walked over to where Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat studying like the over-achievers that they were. Draco sat up and glared at Pansy. He watched her talk and flirt with Harry. He took the bait and talked back casually. Soon they were laughing. Draco didn't even look into Pansy's thoughts. He was afraid of what he'd find.

Instead, he focused his attention on Hermione's mind, which Draco always found interesting. Today she was worried someone would find out their secret. Draco smirked and probed deeper, searching for "their secret". He caught a flash of an image that looked like a potion brewing in a dungeon-type place. Harry suddenly looked over at Draco and smiled at something Pansy said. Draco backed out of Hermione's thoughts and tried Harry again. Nothing. Draco sighed and dropped his gaze, letting the overwhelming effect of everyone in the room whispering at once wash over him. He talked to Blaise for a while about trivial things like Quidditch, homework, and Snape as usual.

Finally, Pansy pranced back over to where they sat. Draco tried to get her to tell him what they had talked about, but she refused to tell him. He knew how uncomfortable she was with him reading her mind, so he tried not to listen. The clock struck a certain, long-toned time and everyone in the common room began heading for the Great Hall for the Halloween feast. Just as Harry passed by Draco, he heard something and Draco was convinced Harry had not been speaking.

"It's like we have some kind of ... connection."

~.~.~

Draco tried to ask Pansy about what he had heard and if they had talked about it, but she was enthralled in Dumbledore's speech. Draco glanced up at the twinkle-eyed old man and rolled his eyes. But it seemed everybody in the room had their full attention on said speaker. Finally, it was over and the applause was mixed with murmurs. Draco listened in to Hermione, who always knew what was going on.

"...think we should even get involved?"

She was whispering to Harry and Ron. Draco tried to look inconspicuous in his eavesdropping.

"Yes! Especially now after what he just said. We have to do it soon."

"Like, when?"

"To–"

Just then, the doors banged open and Professor Quirrell ran in, shouting about a troll.

"Troll! In the dungeons! Troll in the dungeons!!" He yelled.

Then, he fainted in front of the staff table. Thunder and lightning snapped at them above their heads and the Hall went crazy. Students were up, trying to find their siblings, their friends, a familiar face, anyone to turn to. The teachers stood and stared at Dumbledore, waiting for him to take control like they knew he would. Draco threw his food on his plate and kept a close eye on his friends.

"Silence!" Dumbledore roared from the staff table.

Everyone stopped moving at once, thunder still clapping above them. A few other first years whimpered, but the older students looked to Dumbledore with determination. At least, most of them did. Many Slytherins were simply searching for an exit. Dumbledore swiftly took charge, giving prefects and teachers instructions. Students began to file out in a calm, but hurried fashion. That is, except for Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Draco hung back and followed them.

They ran toward the third floor and, keeping an eye for Filch and the teachers, Draco trailed. As they rounded the corner, they stopped and backed up. Draco caught up to them easily and tried to be as quiet as possible. He knew if he tried to tell them he was there, they would blow their cover. Though, as Draco looked around, he couldn't understand _why_ they were even there. He thought about turning and going to the common room, just in case they _did_ get caught. Suddenly, Harry turned around and, looking straight at Draco, whispered,

"Don't leave."

Draco gaped at the boy as he turned around and watched what Hermione and Ron were watching. Draco snuck up a little closer behind Harry and peered around the corner. It was Snape, trying to get into the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side.

A/N: Here's an interesting cliffy. I couldn't have them running off to fight a troll when Hermione wasn't in danger and no one else was in the bathroom crying. So they went to the third-floor corridor. Of course. Don't know what to do, though. I really don't like having a little bit of canon. It puts off the story line and makes it harder to stray away from the canon. =[ Next chapter will be interesting.


End file.
